Stay
by snapesgirl21
Summary: Re-released! In Notorious Nineteen, Ranger asked Stephanie if she would like him to stay at her apartment with her one night. What could have unfolded had she said yes? Completed.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **A/N: Inspired by the song "Stay" by Rihanna. This takes place in Notorious Nineteen when Ranger takes Stephanie back to her apartment after his friend's rehearsal dinner.**

" _Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"_

 _I hesitated for a beat. "I'm sure."_

 _He traced a line down the side of my face with his fingertip. "Would you like me to change your mind?"_

My heart was telling to say _yes_ , my body was screaming _hell yes_ , and even that little voice in my mind that usually reminded me of Morelli was saying _go for it girl._ Nothing in my body, mind, or heart was telling me to refuse his offer to change my mind. Besides, he might not be able to do it.

Yeah, right.

"You can try," I teased, trying to appear nonchalant. In reality, I was trying not to collapse from the look of desire that had crossed Ranger's face as a small smile appeared on his lips.

He slowly slid one arm around my waist and pulled me into him while he cradled my head with the other hand. He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me so tenderly I wanted to cry. Ranger was vastly different from Morelli in the sexual department. Both were great in bed, but Ranger's touch was gentle and meaningful whereas Morelli's was playful and lust-filled. Ranger _made love_ while Morelli _fucked_.

I deepened the kiss as he navigated us towards my bedroom. I could feel his erection digging into me and it seemed as though my body temperature had risen a couple of degrees from the contact. Once we reached my bedroom, I immediately moved to unbutton his jacket. Before I pushed it off of his shoulders, he reached in the pocket, pulled out two condoms and threw them on the night stand before the jacket hit the floor. If I hadn't been so turned on, I would have told him how presumptuous it had been of him to have condoms with him. But because I was so turned on, my fingers couldn't move fast enough as I worked on his shirt, and the only thought that kept me from just ripping his shirt open was the knowledge that it had probably cost a lot of money.

It only took a minute for the rest of his clothes, and all of mine, to end up in a pile on the floor. Ranger spent the next ten minutes exploring every part of my body with his tongue and his hands, and by the time he entered me, I had already had one orgasm and was well on my way to a second. Any thought of Morelli, Orin Carr, Geoffrey Cubbin, the Clinic, or anything else was gone in that moment because the only thing I could focus on was the feeling of Ranger on top of and inside me. The feelings, both physical and emotional, were beyond words. During our normal interactions, I could keep my emotional connection to him in check because I would remember that I was in a semi-serious relationship with Morelli and that Ranger had always said his life didn't lend itself to relationships. But whenever we were intimate, it was impossible to remember either of those things. The gentleness and obvious affection with which Ranger touched me made me wonder if he really meant what he had said in the past. His expressions and his words told me how at peace he felt when he was moving over me, and I couldn't understand why he wouldn't open himself up to a life with me.

I fell asleep in Ranger's arms afterwards and didn't move from that spot until a knock at my apartment door woke us the next morning. Ranger climbed out of bed, pulled on his pants, grabbed his gun and went into the living room. I heard the door open and shut again a few seconds later. Since there hadn't been any yells or gunshots, I thought it was safe to assume that Orin Carr hadn't been in the hall. Ranger came back in the bedroom a couple of minutes later carrying a duffle bag in one hand and a garment bag in the other. He laid the garment bag over the back of the chair in the corner of my room and set the duffle bag down next to it.

"What is all of that?"

"I had Lester bring everything I need to get ready for the wedding so that I don't have to leave you alone."

I climbed out of bed, stretched and headed towards the kitchen. "I doubt Orin is going to come after me. I told you, I don't think I'm his number one target. I don't even think I'm number two."

"I disagree," Ranger replied, following me through the apartment. "I think you and Amanda are his number one targets, and he won't come after Kinsey or me until he's gotten to you two."

"Why? We don't know him. We don't even know why he's after you and Kinsey, let alone what we've could have done to him."

Ranger leaned against the counter and watched me while I got coffee started. He didn't say anything until my attention was off of the machine and back onto him.

"Orin may be a munitions expert, but he still received the same kind of psychological training that Kinsey and I did. He knows how to read people, determine their motivations, and find their weaknesses. He has undoubtedly been watching us for a while and knows that you're my weakness, and Amanda is Kinsey's. And that to hurt the two of you would be more painful than torturing us directly."

A small lump had formed in my throat as Ranger had been talking. I didn't often consider his motivations for tracking me and giving me cars when mine were destroyed or stolen. I spent most of the time trying to ignore my feelings for Ranger, and in turn it seemed I had also been trying to ignore his feelings for me. I had tried to tell myself that I was just an amusement for him as a friend, but the reality was that we were in love with each other. I'd already seen Ranger near death once when he'd been shot by Edward Scrog. I could only imagine the emotions that would be running through him if the positions were reversed.

"Do you think he'll try something at the wedding today?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

"I think he's more likely to try something before the wedding, but I wouldn't put it past him to try something at the church or during the reception. The wedding party is meeting at the church at one to start getting ready, so I'll be with you until then. Hal and Ramon will be staying with you as much as possible during the day. I'll be with Kinsey, and we'll have Tank and Bobby with us."

I didn't say anything until after the coffee finished brewing and I had poured us both a cup. "What will happen if he doesn't accomplish what he wants before Kinsey and Amanda leave on their honeymoon? They're going to Paris, right?"

"Kinsey said they won't leave for their honeymoon until the threat is removed."

I nodded absentmindedly while I sipped my coffee and leaned against the counter. I was feeling a bit like a sitting duck, since no one knew where Orin was or how he was moving around, and I was worried for Ranger and Kinsey. I wanted to eat a carbohydrate- and sugar-filled breakfast, but didn't imagine Ranger would want me to leave the apartment. I looked out the window in my kitchen down into the parking lot. Ranger's Turbo had been left undisturbed in the lot and there was a Rangeman SUV parked two spaces down from it.

"Who's in the lot?"

"Hal was there until midnight, then Lester took over."

Ranger finished his coffee and put the mug in the sink. "I'm going to take a shower, and then we can start discussing the agenda for the wedding and reception and the contingency plans if Orin should make his move today."

While Ranger headed to the shower, I started scouring the kitchen to see what I could pull together for breakfast. There wasn't much in my refrigerator and what was there wasn't part of the Ranger diet. I had just pulled my head out of the refrigerator and was returning to the idea of asking Ranger about going out for breakfast when I sensed a presence behind me. I didn't even have the chance to turn around before I felt a stun gun being pressed to the back of my neck and everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, it was to find that I had been propped up against my refrigerator with my hands bound behind me. Orin Carr was sitting on a dining room chair in the middle of the kitchen, dressed in army fatigues with guns, ammo, grenades, and other explosives attached his body. He was barely recognizable through the scarring on his face. To my left, I could see Ranger sitting on the other dining room chair. He was unconscious and had been bound to the chair by copious amounts of duct tape. A laptop was open on the kitchen counter and I could see what looked like surveillance camera footage. It took me a few seconds to realize that the room on the screen was my bedroom and that the footage must have been recorded during the night, as Ranger was lying in the bed next to me. The video was playing and I could tell that Ranger had been watching me sleep while stroking my hair. It made me feel sick to realize that someone had been spying on me in the privacy of my own home, and to make matters worse, it had been done when I was in bed with someone.

I heard noise next to me and realized Ranger was regaining consciousness. He took a few seconds to come around, but his gaze immediately fell on me before moving to Orin, who had been watching us intently with a lighter in his hand.

"Do you remember what I used to say about fire?" Orin asked Ranger softly, his voice sounding detached and cold. He had pale blue eyes that were boring into Ranger's dark brown ones.

"That it was the great purifier," Ranger replied, and his expression was deadly calm, which was the sure sign of his anger.

"Yes, because the excruciating pain as your flesh burns away from your body is what cleanses your soul before you die. You and Kinsey need to be cleansed, as do the women you both contaminated."

Ranger studied Orin for a minute before he spoke again. "Why?"

"You manipulated Kinsey, and you both left the unit. You broke up our brotherhood and the divine protection we had when we were together. I was sent to Afghanistan, nearly died in an attack, and was held prisoner for years until I managed to escape. While I was being held, I knew what I needed to do once I could get away. I knew I had to cleanse you and Kinsey before I could completely die."

The calmness in Orin's tone and demeanor scared the hell out of me. He was truly insane, and had nothing to live for except his desire to exact revenge.

"You can have me, but let Stephanie go," Ranger replied. "She hasn't done anything to you."

"It's what you've done to her that means I can't let her go. You've ruined her. I have proof," Orin said, gesturing towards the computer.

"Are you planning to cleanse every woman that Kinsey or I have ever slept with? That's a long list."

"The contamination isn't physical, but spiritual. By loving her and making her love you, you've contaminated her soul with the decay from yours."

"I can tell you that Stephanie's soul hasn't been tarnished by mine. I've made sure of that," Ranger said sincerely. "Why do you assume that we're in love with each other? "

"Are you denying that you're in love with her?"

Ranger locked eyes with me and I wondered what he would say. I doubted that Orin would let me go even if Ranger said no, so I figured whatever he would say would be the truth. He wouldn't want to lie in case one or both of us didn't make it through the encounter.

"No, I'm not denying it. But I'm not going to assume that she's in love with me, and you shouldn't either," Ranger answered resolutely. "She has a boyfriend. She loves him."

Orin snorted. "I know about the cop. I've seen her with him too, but it's different. She would do anything for you." He turned to look at me. "Do you deny that you are in love with him?"

Ranger and I hadn't stopped looking at each other, so I continued to hold his gaze as I spoke.

"No, I don't."

Something passed across Ranger's face that I couldn't quite decipher. Had he really not know for all of these years that I'd been in love with him? I guess I'd never actually said the words to him, but had my feelings not been evident? He'd always been able to read me and see the truth, no matter how much I tried to hide it.

The silence of the kitchen was disrupted by a knock at my door.

"I hate disruptions," Orin said, putting away his lighter and pulling his gun. "Get up and tell whoever it is to go away."

I was dragged up to a standing position and hauled through the kitchen and living room to the front door. Orin looked through the peephole to see who was standing in the hall.

"Get rid of him," he said quickly. "If you try to ask for help, I'll shoot you."

I looked through the peephole to see who it was and saw Brody Logan.

"Go away, Brody," I said.

"No, I want Tiki. He's freaked out."

"You can't have him right now. He isn't here," I said, desperate for either Brody to go away or for something to happen that would stop Orin.

"Tell me where he is," Brody demanded. "I have to get him."

"He's at my boyfriend's house. You'll have to go over there. He lives at—,"

Orin pulled me away from the door, unlocked it and wrenched it open. He grabbed Brody by the front of his shirt, dragged him in the apartment and shut the door. Brody was thrown to the ground next to me and before either of us could respond in any way, Orin pulled out his gun and shot Brody twice in the chest. I felt horrible for Brody, who had just wanted to find his tiki, but I hoped that the gun shots would alert my neighbors to the need to call the police. It took a few seconds for my horrified brain to process the fact that there was a silencer on the end of the gun, which meant my neighbors wouldn't have heard anything. No police would be coming our way.

But what about Lester? Wasn't he supposed to be down in the lot?

Orin lifted me to my feet and walked me back to the kitchen, not giving Brody's body a second glance. Ranger had clearly been trying to figure out what was going on and looked relieved to see that I was still alive. I assumed that I would put seated back on the floor, but instead I was shoved up against the refrigerator.

"I'm done talking," he said quietly. "It's time for you to start burning."

I couldn't help but scream when I saw him ignite the lighter. He pulled me a little ways away from the refrigerator and set fire to my ponytail. I could feel the flames licking my neck and I was continuing to scream and struggle to get away from Orin while trying to not set my shirt on fire. I was so caught up in my struggle that I didn't register what happened next. Orin had suddenly let go of me and I was dragged over to the kitchen sink, where I heard water start running and felt instant relief as the flames were extinguished. Orin reappeared in my peripheral vision and he had his gun drawn. Before he could fire a shot, I saw Ranger tackle him. I struggled to stand upright again and saw Ranger punching Orin in the face as he fought to get the gun. I had no clue how to help Ranger when my hands were taped behind my back, so I did the best thing I could do. I ran over to Orin and kicked him in the face, stunning him enough to allow Ranger to disarm him. Ranger pointed the gun at Orin, who had reached for a grenade on his belt, and fired before Orin could do more than touch it. A blood oozed from the hole that was now in the middle of Orin's forehead. Ranger's breathing was heavy as he put the gun down on the counter.

"Good job, babe. Are you okay?"

I nodded. "M-m-my neck is a l-little burned, but yes."

He reached for a knife that was laying on the ground and used it to cut the tape from my wrists. It wasn't until my hands were free that I realized I was trembling. Ranger found his cell phone on the counter and called 911, then Lester, who was groggy and said he thought he'd been drugged in some way. He didn't bother calling Rangeman, since they'd be on their way once they heard the police scanner go out about coming to my apartment.

Once he was off the phone, Ranger wrapped his arms around me and rested his face on top of my head.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

I nodded. "How did he get you?"

"Ambushed me when I was coming out of the bathroom."

I straightened up and took a few deep breaths. "How did you get out of the tape?"

"There was a knife on the counter. He got sloppy and didn't clear things nearby. He assumed his tape would be enough to keep me from moving. I cut myself out while you were trying to get Brody to go away."

I shook my head. "Poor Brody."

We heard the sounds of sirens in the lot, so we opened the door to the apartment and stood just outside so that police and EMTs would be able to get through more easily. Morelli arrived about five minutes after the initial group of first responders. He pulled me into a hug and held me so tight I almost couldn't breathe.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling away to look me over.

I nodded. "Just some scorched hair and minor burns on my neck. I'll ask one of the EMTs for some salve after they get done with the guys in there."

Morelli gave Ranger a once-over before he went into the apartment to talk to some of the police. I could see the flashes from police cameras and could hear a low level of chatter. Ranger nudged me away from the door to the other side of the hall after a couple of minutes.

"Are you prepared for what's going to happen when Morelli hears about what Orin recorded last night?" he asked, his expression serious.

My stomach did a flip and my knees started to shake. I hadn't even thought about that. Even though Morelli likely wouldn't be on the case officially, word would get out that there was footage of me having sex with Ranger. It would be embarrassing for all of us, and damaging to my relationship with Morelli. The Hawaii incident had put us in a bad place and I'd been amazed when we'd been able to work through it. I saw Robin Russell come out of the apartment with a box of evidence bags. Orin's laptop was visible in one of the larger bags. She caught my eye and walked over to me.

"Morelli hasn't seen what is on the computer," she whispered. "And I'll do my best to keep him from seeing it."

I nodded my thanks as she continued down the hall towards the open elevator. It bought me time, but it didn't spare me the conversation that would ultimately have to happen. A detective took Ranger down the hall to start getting his statement while I continued to wait just outside my door. Morelli came out of my apartment a few minutes later with my purse, a pair of shoes and Rex's hamster cage. The expression on his face told me that he knew something, but to what extent I didn't know. I put my shoes on, took my bag and Rex's cage and followed Morelli silently down the hall. Ranger caught my eye and I knew he could tell from the expression on my face that things weren't good. Morelli didn't look at me or say a word until we were in the parking lot. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the two empty condom wrappers that Ranger and I had used the night before. He slammed them down on the trunk of my car and finally met my eye. I opened my mouth to speak, but stumbled to find the right words.

"You can't say they're mine. I don't use Magnums. My dick isn't big enough to need them," Morelli said coldly. He shook his head and looked out over the lot. "Do you have any idea what it is like to find another man's condoms in my girlfriend's trash? It's bad enough that I know you two had sex in Hawaii, but again? Really?"

I felt tears burn my eyes. They were tears of guilt and confusion. I loved both of these men, and while I knew in my brain it was wrong to be with Ranger when I was in a relationship to Morelli, my heart told me otherwise.

"I'm sorry, Joe."

"I've had my suspicions before, but I never had proof. I didn't want to believe that you could do this to me. How many other times have you been with him?"

Did he mean actual number of sexual encounters or time-frames? I didn't want to say the wrong thing and hurt him even more.

"Fine, since you won't talk, I'll run through my list and you can tell me if I'm right," Morelli began. "The first time I suspected it was when Abruzzi was after you."

I nodded. "Yes, but you and I had broken up then."

"I know, so I can't count that against you, even though I hate it," he replied, counting off on his fingers. "The next time was when you were staying in his apartment when that gang was after you."

I shook my head. "No, we didn't have sex. I just stayed at his apartment." I failed to mention that we'd slept in the same bed.

"At least I'm wrong about one time," Morelli shot back. "Next was when he stayed in your apartment after his daughter had been kidnapped."

"We didn't have sex then either," I said, knowing that my tone was off.

Morelli snorted. "I'm sensing a _but_ in there somewhere."

"We almost did," I admitted. "We got close, but—but you interrupted us."

Morelli froze. "When was it?"

I blew out a sigh, knowing that he wasn't going to let go of this line of questioning. "It was the day you said you were moving in. Ranger heard you unlocking the door and then the chain caught. That's why it took me so long to get to the door."

Anguish crossed Morelli's face. "What were you doing?"

"What?"

"What were you doing when I got there? Were you blowing him?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Was he going down on you?"

I answered by looking down at my shoes. Morelli responded with a noise of disgust.

"Were there any other times?" he asked after a minute of silence.

I met Morelli's gaze and knew that I was in a moment where my true nature was going to be tested. I could attempt to justify to myself that the vordo situation and the romp in Joyce Barnhardt's closet were close enough to the Hawaii situation to be lumped in with it and ignored, or I could be upfront with him about them, especially because there was a day where I'd had sex with both Morelli _and_ Ranger during the vordo incident. Not that I wanted to share that particular tidbit if I could avoid it, but I ultimately had to decide what kind of person I was going to be: honest or self-preserving.

"We slept together a week or so before I left for Hawaii, and then once right after we got back," I admitted, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was going to have to face the consequences of that confession, but I thought I'd be able to live with myself a little easier than if I had lied.

The look of betrayal on Morelli's face made my heart break. As far as I knew, he'd never been with anyone else while we had been actively together. I had never known for sure about times when we'd been on a break, as neither of us had really wanted to divulge that kind of information.

"In the four years that we've been in this off-and-on relationship, I've never been with anyone else," Morelli said quietly. "Not even when we were hating each other, but now I have to find out that all but one of the times that you've been with Ranger have been _while_ we were together." He shook his head in disbelief and stared towards the back entrance to my apartment, where EMTs were bringing out one of the bodies in a black bag. After a moment, he pulled his keys out of his pocket and worked to remove one before putting it down on the trunk of my car.

"I want my house key back. I'm done," he said.

Tears pricked my eyes at the realization of what had transpired. I pulled out my key chain and removed his house key and handed it to him. "I'm sorry, Joe. I really am."

Morelli assessed me for a moment before shaking his head. "No, you're not. Not really. You love him too, probably more than me. You're just sorry you got caught."

He turned on his heel and walked down to his car, where he climbed in without another word. I stood by and watched as he pulled out of the lot, trying to figure out what I was feeling. Guilt from hurting Morelli and being unfaithful, even if the status of the relationship was questionable. Shock and horror from the events that had occurred earlier. What was more surprising was the sense of relief and what brought it about. It wasn't just the relief of not keeping it quiet that I'd slept with Ranger while in a relationship with Morelli, but that Morelli had been the one to bring a permanent end to our rollercoaster relationship. I hadn't had to make an actual choice between the two men I loved. It had been made for me, to a degree. My car was blocked in by police cars, so I set Rex down on the trunk, pocketed the key and the condom wrappers, and leaned against it while I tried to figure out my next move. My apartment would undoubtedly be sealed off for a few days while they processed the scene. And it would need to be cleaned before I'd even be back inside, so I would have to crash in my old bedroom at my parents' house until then. I idly wondered about the wedding that was supposed to take place in a few hours and whether I'd still be expected to show up since the threat had been eliminated. That would be a question for Ranger, who was still inside, so I would have to wait to find out, especially since the maid of honor dress was still in the apartment.

Dealing with what had gone down with Ranger in the past twelve hours was another issue that had to be handled. We had both admitted to being in love with the other. In the past, Ranger had always said he loved me 'in his own way', and I'd never admitted to anything. I knew the end of my relationship with Morelli would add an unknown element to it all, though I wasn't quite sure how.


	2. Chapter 2

I wasn't sure how long I'd been standing in the parking lot watching the comings and goings of the police, but it had apparently been a while because when Ranger came out of the apartment carrying his duffle bag and two garment bags, he looked surprised.

"I thought you were going home with Morelli," he said, stopping to standing in front of me. His eyes quickly scanned the lot as I struggled to find the words.

I opened my mouth several times to try to tell him what had happened, but the only thing that happened was that tears filled my eyes and my lip started to quiver. I looked away from Ranger and out over the parking lot, hoping to avoid full-blown sobs in front of the police and my neighbors. He had watched me for a minute before walking over to his car, opening the passenger side door and placing all of the bags in the cargo area of the Turbo. He left the door open and came back to me. He tucked Rex's cage under one arm and guided me over to the open door with the other. Once I was seated in the car, he placed Rex in my lap and shut the door. I bounced one of my legs during the ride to Rangeman in an effort to distract myself from crying. We were silent as we drove through the city, parked in the Rangeman parking garage and made our way up to Ranger's seventh floor apartment. I hadn't looked at Ranger because I knew if I saw the look in his eyes, I'd fall apart. Once inside the apartment, I set Rex's cage down in the kitchen and stood in front of it with my arms resting on the counter.

"Do you want to talk?" Ranger asked as he came up to stand next to me.

I shook my head while I focused on Rex, but my vision became rapidly more blurry with each passing second. I turned around and headed towards the bedroom, avoiding Ranger's gaze as I passed. I didn't want to talk about anything right then. I kicked off my shoes and laid down on his bed. I wanted to sleep and try to forget what had happened for a little while. But I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sleep with the knot that was sitting in my chest. I didn't want to cry because it made me feel like an idiot, but sometimes these things are out of our control. I felt the tears start falling down my cheeks as the sobs shook my body.

After a minute, I felt the bed sink down behind me and a hand started rubbing my arm. The touch was comforting and tender, but made me cry harder. Ranger had been at the center of both of the major problems that I'd had in the last few hours, and I couldn't decide if I was glad of that or angry. On the one hand, had he not been in my apartment I likely would have been killed before someone could have gotten to me. But if he hadn't stayed, his condoms wouldn't have been in my trash can or our actions on video. I wouldn't have felt guilty, and Morelli and I would likely still be together. But was that what I wanted? That I couldn't figure out for sure because I knew that I loved Ranger and deep down I knew that I didn't regret any of the times I'd slept with him, even if it did border on unfaithfulness to Morelli. But was my inability to fully commit to Morelli _really_ all my fault? Did some of the blame lie with Morelli himself, along with Ranger, and possibly even my turd of an ex-husband, Dickie Orr? Or did I just want to have my cake and eat it too? The thought made me cry even more. Ranger didn't say anything as I cried, but continued to rub my arm and placed the occasional kiss in my hair. That was a great thing about him—he didn't mind letting me cry. Morelli would always say or do anything to try to make me stop, but Ranger would let me get the emotions out. He wasn't uncomfortable around tears like most men. He accepted them as a part of life, especially if you loved a woman as prone to mishaps as me. I eventually stopped crying and started to drift off to sleep, but instead of leaving once I'd settled down, Ranger curled an arm around my waist and held me close. When I opened my eyes some time later, it was to find that my head was laying on his chest and he had both arms wrapped around me. It took me a minute to realize that Ranger had been trying to say something.

"What?" I asked, sitting up and stretching.

"I said I called Kinsey and told him we won't be to the church until right before the wedding. Ella's coming up soon to help you with your hair, and I told her that I didn't think you had shoes for your dress, so she was going to go shopping and bring you a couple of options," Ranger said, watching me closely.

"Thanks," I replied. "I wasn't sure if I was still going to be part of the wedding now. Did the old maid of honor not want to take the job back?"

"She said she couldn't lose the weight necessary to fit into the dress."

That made sense. The dress had been enormous on me when I'd tried it on the first time.

"I spoke to the police and they've said they'll officially release your apartment as a crime scene by six tomorrow evening. I have a cleaning crew coming in right after that and then they are coming again the next day. You should be able to go home by Monday night or Tuesday morning. What are your plans in the meantime?"

"I figure I'll stay with my parents," I replied. "Or maybe Connie. She has an extra room and the added bonus of not having to listen to my grandmother and father fight for the bathroom in the mornings."

"I'd like you to stay here for tonight," Ranger said. "We need to talk."

I nodded in agreement. We did need to talk. We had needed to have a talk for four years, but had continued to mostly avoid the subject. Tonight could be the beginning of something new or the end of any involvement with Ranger. I had no idea where his head was, and my head was a jumble of confusion. I knew I wanted him, but wasn't letting myself get too attached to the idea. He'd kept me at arm's length for so long, I didn't know if it would be possible for me to get any closer.

Ella came up at one o'clock and helped trim the burned ends of my hair. She told me she'd cut her sisters' hair for years and clearly all that practice had paid off. My hair looked great by the time she was done. Just as I thought I had one disaster finished, another presented itself. After a shower, I went to try on the dress so that I could figure out which pair of heels I wanted to wear with it when I realized that the bridal salon had taken in the dress too much. It was so tight that my boobs were falling out of the top.

"Crap!" I said, looking in the mirror. "This is what I get for not trying it on there."

Ella came into the dressing room when she heard me. "Is there a problem dear? Oh my…"

"I can barely breathe in this."

"Give to me and I'll see if I can let it out any," Ella said. "There's still plenty of time until you need to leave."

While Ella took the dress down to her apartment to attempt to alter it to not look like I should be working at the Little Whorehouse on the Prairie, I put Ranger's bathrobe back on and tried on the shoes. Ella had bought three pairs of silver heels in various styles. One pair was very cute and something I could wear again, so I left them on so that I could break them in a little and was going to start on my make-up when I realized I didn't have much. I dug through my purse and found some mascara and lip gloss. That would have to do. After a few swipes of each product, I headed out into the apartment and found Ranger on his computer in the den. He smiled when he saw me.

"I have to say that this is a better alternative to that dress," Ranger said. "But I don't know that Amanda will appreciate you wearing white and stealing her thunder."

"Ella's altering my dress," I replied, sitting on the edge of his desk. "It was so tight in the chest that my boobs were falling out."

"Maybe it wasn't such a bad dress after all."

Ella brought my dress back up around two-thirty, just as Ranger was headed into his dressing room to start getting ready. I took the dress and walked into the dressing room, where Ranger was tucking his white shirt into his pants.

"Let's see what magic Ella managed to work," I said, taking off the bathrobe and stepping into the dress. I could tell as I pulled it up that it was a little looser than it had been, but was still tighter than it should be. Ranger came up behind me and zipped the dress. It was still tight across my chest, but my boobs were able to stay contained within the material.

"It's much better," I called to Ella through the door. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear," she replied. "Have a good time this evening."

Ranger and I left for the church a little after three and arrived by three-thirty, when both sides of the bridal party were making final checks. I said hello to all of the bridesmaids, Amanda and her mother before collecting my bouquet and doing a last minute hair and make-up check. The wedding began promptly at four and went off without a hitch, unless you counted the fact that Ranger and I couldn't keep our eyes off each other the entire time. I was experiencing some of the same emotions I'd felt during the rehearsal the day before, and there was a tenderness in his eyes when he looked at me that I had only seen when we were in bed together. The tension was so strong that I was sure someone else in the room had to feel it. When I held his arm as we walked down the aisle behind Kinsey and Amanda after the ceremony, I could have sworn I felt a jolt pass through my body. After almost an hour of picture-taking, we moved on to the reception at a swanky banquet hall in Hamilton Township. I'd broken out in a cold sweat on the way to the reception at the idea of having to give the traditional maid of honor toast, considering I barely knew Amanda. Ranger helped alleviate my anxiety by saying that Kinsey and Amanda had opted to have their parents speak instead, since Kinsey had known Ranger wasn't the most verbose person to walk the planet and Amanda had only known me for a week.

There was a meal at the reception consisting of salad, bread, chicken and green beans. I polished mine off quickly since I hadn't eaten all day. After the parents' speeches, Kinsey and Amanda did the obligatory cake-cutting before moving on to their first dance as husband and wife. I watched Kinsey and Amanda as they held each other close and talked while they danced, clearly happy and in love. After a song played where Kinsey danced with his mother and Amanda danced with her father, the dance floor was opened up to everyone else. I noticed a couple of the groomsmen giving me a once-over, but before either could make a move, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Let's dance," Ranger said, pulling out my chair so that I could stand.

"I didn't know that you danced," I commented as he guided me to the dance floor. "And I especially didn't think you'd want to be seen with me in this dress."

"I don't care about the dress, and I dance when I need to," he replied, pulling me into his arms as we reached the dance floor.

"I wasn't aware that wedding etiquette required best man to dance."

"He dances if he doesn't want to have to share the maid of honor with anyone else," Ranger said, making me blush slightly.

"I thought you'd be used to sharing me," I said, feeling uncharacteristically bold.

Ranger held my gaze for a minute before speaking. "What's the status of your relationship with Morelli?"

Oh, he wanted to talk about that? _Now_?

"It's over. For good this time," I said quietly.

We didn't talk any more after that, but continued to dance for a while. I saw Amanda and Kinsey dancing nearby and she was watching Ranger and me with interest. When she caught my eye she mouthed _he's so in love with you_. I gave her a non-committal smile and looked away. Ranger was looking down at me with a confused expression.

"What?"

"Want to share with the class?"

"Amanda just said something, but I couldn't quite understand what she was saying."

"Liar," Ranger said. "I'm ready to leave. Let's go say goodbye to Amanda and Kinsey."

He pulled me by the hand over to the couple, where we congratulated them and said goodbye. Neither of us spoke as we drove back towards Rangeman in the dark. I was dying to get out of my dress, but remembered that I didn't have any pajamas at Ranger's apartment. I'd have to ask him for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, unless he planned on me sleeping _au naturel_.

We didn't speak until we got into the apartment and headed towards his bedroom.

"Do you have something I can sleep in?" I asked. "I don't have anything to wear except this dress and what I was wearing earlier."

Ranger went into the dressing room and opened a drawer in the dresser, where he pulled out an olive drab t-shirt and a pair of black boxers. He handed me the clothes and then went behind me and started unzipping my dress.

"What are your plans for this?" he asked as I shrugged out of the pink taffeta.

"Typically, I'd say I wanted to burn it, but after this morning I don't want to set anything on fire ever again," I answered. "So I'll probably give it to my nieces for dress-up."

After we were both changed, we settled on the sofa in the living room with beers. I knew we needed to talk, but I wasn't sure who was going to start the conversation. Furthermore, I wasn't sure how I wanted things to go. I knew that if Ranger offered me the opportunity to have a relationship with him that I would take it, but wondered if it was smart to do so soon after Morelli. But in the end, I didn't really figure it mattered. I was preparing myself to hear the same old _my life doesn't lend itself to relationships and you don't know everything about me_ speech that I'd heard before. I didn't think Ranger would be the type to change his mind on something like that.

"Tell me about what happened with Morelli after you left your apartment," Ranger began, taking a drag of his beer while he waited for me to respond.

"He found the condom wrappers in my trash can when he went in my room to get my stuff. He confronted me with them and asked me how I could do that to him again. When I couldn't really give him an answer, he started drilling me on how many times we'd slept together. He had several instances where he had suspected, most of which were right. And then I decided not to be a liar and told him about the times before we were in Hawaii and that time right after at Joyce's house. He was hurt, told me he'd never been with anyone else in the four years that we'd been together, even when we'd been broken up, and said that he was done. He gave me back my key and took his from me."

Ranger watched me for a minute. "Do you think it's really over?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it is. And to be honest, I'm a little confused about how I'm feeling about it. I feel guilty to a degree, but there's also some relief in there."

"Relief?"

"That he ended it and not me, though the guilt comes in that it ended because I slept with someone else. But then I don't regret sleeping with you, so I'm not sure that I feel too guilty. And then when I think about what happened with Orin, I'm even more confused about the whole thing."

"What do you want, Stephanie?" he asked, placing his beer on the table.

I held his gaze for a moment, willing myself to say the thing I'd wanted to say to him for the last few years. It wasn't easy to spill to your guts when you knew the response coming your way was going to be disappointing. But we couldn't take back what we'd said in the kitchen. I assumed that this was going to be a crossroads for my relationship with Ranger. He'd shoot me down, and I'd be hurt. But this would have to be the last time. I couldn't put myself through this any longer. I'd tell him the truth, hear his words, and leave. I'd tell him that I needed to move on with my life, so I wanted him to stay away. Please don't rescue me, track me, give me cars, or a job when the skips aren't coming in. I'd say goodbye for the last time and hope that I could stay away.

"I want you," I said simply. "But I know that I can't have you, so you don't have to give me the speech. I know your life doesn't lend itself to relationships, that I don't know all about your past, you have enemies, you work all the time, blah, blah, blah. I'm tired of hearing the excuses."

I could tell Ranger was trying to figure out what to say next, so I continued on with my speech so that we didn't have to drag the situation out any longer.

"I think we've reached a point where we can't keep going like this. If we can't be together, then I can't keep being around you. It's too hard. I need to move on with my life. I don't need to be rescued or tracked. I need to be able to take care of myself. I can't let myself rely on you any longer to protect me, so this needs to be goodbye."

Again, Ranger didn't say anything once I finished talking. He was processing what I was saying, but he also wasn't denying anything. My heart hurt from the weight of the rejection and the other emotions that had been coursing through me all day. I needed a break. I needed a whole box of Tastykakes and a marathon of sappy movies that would give me an excuse to cry. Maybe I needed to move out of state and find a whole new life. Unable to stand the silence any longer, I stood up with the intention of grabbing my stuff and leaving, but Ranger caught my wrist and pulled me back down to the sofa before I could take a step. There were tears in my eyes, but even through them I could see the determined expression on Ranger's face.

"Why didn't you deny it when Orin asked if you were in love with me?" he asked.

"I didn't want one or both of us to die with me having lied about how I felt about you," I replied. "Why didn't you deny it?"

"The same reason, but I'd been hoping that you would say that you weren't."

I took a minute to process that information. "Why? He wouldn't have let me go."

"I knew that. I wanted you to say that you weren't in love with me because I didn't want to go to my grave with the knowledge that you'd felt the same way about me and the regret that I'd never fought for you."

My mouth fell open in shock. Thus far, his response had been _nothing_ like what I'd been expecting.

"Did you really not know? You've always been able to read me so well."

Ranger shrugged. "I'd suspected, but I'd convinced myself that I was wrong. You had Morelli and I knew you loved him. I told myself that you neither needed nor wanted me in that regard, but that I wanted to take whatever little I could get from you to satisfy myself until the day you finally settled down with him. Anytime I sensed you might be interested in more, I gave you—and myself—the whole laundry list of excuses. In reality, those excuses were to protect me, not you. You tend to put yourself in denial about the bad things that happen to you, telling yourself that they weren't that bad and could have been worse. I put myself in denial about the good things, specifically you. I've told myself I didn't deserve to have someone as good as you in my life. I've convinced myself that I would just hurt you, and that's one thing that I've promised myself I would never do."

I hadn't been able to stop the tears that had started falling down my cheeks as Ranger had opened up about his feelings. I couldn't believe this was actually happening— he was saying the things that I'd wanted him to say. At least so far. He hadn't gone to the point of saying he wanted a relationship with me, but was finally acknowledging his feelings.

"What do you want?" I asked, wiping my cheeks.

"I want to stop living in denial. I want you, but there are things we need to talk about before we decide that we really want this," Ranger said, tucking a curl behind my ear. "We need to know what we expect of each other, and whether we can agree to those terms. I'm not Morelli—I won't leave any question as to the status of our relationship."

I nodded in agreement. "You're right."

"What do you expect from me?" he asked. "What do you need from me in a relationship?"

I thought about it for a minute. I knew what he gave me already and what I wanted him to give me, but I also considered what Morelli had given me and what I had wanted from him. The two men were very different from each other in some of those regards.

"First, I want you to let me be me without smothering me. I know you just want to protect me, and that without you watching me, I'd have been dead long ago. But sometimes you're a bit overwhelming. Second, as much as you hate it, I would like you to spend the occasion dinner with my family. If you're serious about being in a relationship with me, then you need to be able to tolerate my family sometimes. They may be crazy, but they're still my family. Third, I want you to talk to me. If it is really none of my business, just say so. I'll hate it, but I'll respect it instead of wondering what you're hiding from me. And finally, I want to get to know the real you. The guy that has made his way from car-stealing thug to Special Forces soldier to successful businessman."

It sounded like a lot of demands when I said them out loud, but just as I knew I needed to be honest with Morelli about my sexual history with Ranger, I knew I needed to be honest about this. I couldn't pretend that something was acceptable when it wasn't. I had to be honest in order to move forward, even if the terms were too much for him and forward meant the end of the friendship.

"I can agree to those terms, but some of my terms coincide with them," he said, settling back on the sofa. "My first expectation is that you care more about your own safety. I'm not expecting you to meet Army standards or even to exercise regularly or eat healthy, but I want you to keep your defensive weapons, including your gun, on your person and ready to go at all times. Even if my enemies aren't after you, you've made plenty of your own. I want you to call me if you are going after someone especially violent instead of using Lula as your back up. Take threats against you seriously, then I won't have to go into overprotective mode and make you feel smothered. My second expectation is that you understand that for the past thirteen years I haven't been accountable to anyone except the United States Army and my business partners, so this will be a big adjustment for me. I've been alone for so long that it will be hard for me to open up and to have someone expecting to know what is going on with my life. My family has known for a long time to respect my privacy, but things can't be that way with us if we are in a relationship. I will work on it, I promise, but I don't want you to think that I don't want this if I don't respond the way you hope I will. My final expectation is that we are in a monogamous relationship. I won't do that vague, open shit Morelli did. I expect complete faithfulness, and I won't forgive an indiscretion. If you cheated, the guy would be dead and we would be over. And because of Morelli, I think that we need to wait to start a relationship between us. I think you need time to get over him and work to change your thinking. I can give you as much or as little space as you need, but I don't want us to pursue a relationship until you're sure you're over him."

I had been listening intently and feeling pretty good about everything Ranger had been saying until right up to the end. By then, I was feeling indignant and insulted.

"Are you saying you can't trust me to be faithful?" I asked shortly.

"No, I'm not saying that. I do trust you. In the four years that you and Morelli have been off and on, there have been very few times that you've actually given in to my advances. I've put them out there far more often than you accepted. But you've been conflicted during those years as well because both Morelli and I have given you inconsistent signals. I kept you at arm's length emotionally while pursuing you physically. Morelli wanted you to be committed while keeping the status of your relationship uncertain. You can't be blamed for not knowing what you wanted or how to handle it all because Morelli and I were screwing with your head and heart."

I finished off my beer while I processed what he had just said. He was saying he trusted me, but that he didn't want to be a rebound guy. He wanted me to be sure it was really over with Morelli and that even if Morelli pursued me, I wouldn't go to him. He wanted our relationship to be the opposite of what it had been with Morelli.

"I understand all of that, and I'm willing to accept those terms," I finally said. "And I think you're right that we should wait. I want to get my feelings for Morelli out of my system, but I also think that we need to not be physical during this time. It makes things hard for me. I can't think clearly, and I want to be sure that I have all of my shit worked out before getting into a relationship with you. I don't want to mess it up."

Ranger smiled slightly. "Well, I won't like not being able to be physical with you, but I understand and can be patient. I'll wait for you to be ready. You just have to say the word, babe."

I smiled and wiped away the few remaining tears on my cheeks. "I can't believe this is really happening. I'm afraid it's all a dream."

"Not a dream, babe," he said, running a finger down my cheek. "This is reality."

I leaned forward and kissed him enough to show him that I loved him and was happy about this, but not to the point of no return. I pulled back and heaved a small sigh. "I should stay with my parents tonight."

"I can control myself. Besides, it's late and you've had a long day. If me holding you while you sleep is too much for you, I'll sleep on the couch," he said. "If you still want to spend tomorrow night with your parents, then you can get over there earlier in the evening."

I thought about it for a beat. "Okay, I'll stay. I think I'll be okay with you holding me while we sleep. It's comforting to be in your arms."

He nodded. "Let's go to bed then."

Even though I was felt safe in Ranger's embrace that night, I still laid awake thinking about everything that had happened. One seemingly small decision had led to life-changing results. It had me in Ranger's arms tonight instead of Morelli's. And I was looking forward to the days when I'd spend most, if not all of my nights in this same place.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up on Sunday morning with a knot in my stomach. I didn't move from my spot in the bed for a few moments while my brain fired up and I tried to remember why I felt like crap. Everything that had happened in the previous twenty-four hours came flooding back to me and the knot tightened. I glanced over at the bedside clock and saw that it was almost nine-thirty in the morning. Ranger's side of the bed was empty and the indicator light on my cell phone was blinking frantically. A quick press of the home button showed that I had eighteen missed calls, thirteen voicemails and twenty text messages waiting for my attention. I'd avoided my phone all day on Saturday, not wanting to answer everyone's questions while I was in shock from Orin's attack and the break-up with Morelli, but I knew I couldn't avoid it any longer. It took me half an hour to listen to all of the voicemails and to read and respond to pertinent text messages. After cementing plans to meet Lula and Connie for brunch at ten-thirty, I called my mother to say that I'd be over later to tell her all about what had happened. Her slightly slurred words told me that she'd been hitting the sauce since before she'd left for Mass that morning.

I pulled up at an all-night diner that was located on the edge of the Burg. It wasn't the cleanest establishment in Trenton, but their breakfast menu was worth the risk. I parked next to Connie's Honda and headed inside to the formica countertops and dingy tile floors. Connie and Lula had already scored a table in the corner to allow for as much privacy as the small room could afford. I sat down next to Lula in the seat that kept my back to the wall. It was such a Ranger move that I almost laughed.

"So what the heck is going on?" Lula asked once the server had taken our orders and left.

"What have you heard?"

"First, we heard that the guy who had been after Ranger broke into your apartment, held you and Ranger hostage, and killed Brody Logan before Ranger managed to kill him. Then we heard that you and Morelli had a huge fight in your parking lot afterwards because he found out you'd been sleeping with Ranger and broke up with you," Connie said as she pulled out a flask to add a little something special to our coffees.

"That pretty much covers it," I admitted.

"How long have you and Ranger been doing the nasty?" Lula asked, downing her coffee like it was water and pushing the mug back over to Connie for a refill.

"We haven't _been_ doing it; it was just that night."

"But I thought you and Morelli weren't quite exclusive?" Connie asked as she refilled Lula's mug with coffee.

"We were and we weren't. It's always confused me too. I'm fairly certain that what I did with Ranger falls into the cheating category. I feel guilty about it anyway."

We fell silent as Chuck Arden walked into the restaurant. I'd gone to school with Chuck. He had been in the class between Morelli and me, and had joined the police department as soon as they'd take him. We had always been on good terms, but from the look on his face as he glanced in my direction, I was guessing that may no longer be the case. A waitress at the counter handed Chuck a bag and accepted a wad of cash. After he collected his change and gave the waitress a wink, he strode back towards the door, giving me a stiff middle before feigning a cough that sounded a lot like _slut!_

"Who does he think he is calling you a slut?" Lula demanded angrily. "Anyone woman with a pulse would have sex with Ranger if they had the chance. I bet even Mother Teresa would have."

Connie and I made the sign of the cross. "Don't say that—the woman's almost a saint," Connie replied. "But I'd say it about every other woman on the planet."

"It sucks, but I'm going to have to take my licks and try to push forward," I told them. "I knew what I was doing and the minute I saw the computer and realized Orin had recorded all of it that Morelli and the rest of the world would find out. I just hope it dies down soon. My mother will start begging neighbors for liquor and their ironing. I just hope it settles down before she gives herself alcohol poisoning."

We finished our breakfast while Lula filled us in on the new man she was dating. He was a former New York Jets linebacker and sported an enormous appendage that Lula had spent her evening thoroughly enjoying. The discussion made my mind go back to Ranger and the evening we'd just spent together. The memory of his hands on my body, his lips on mine, and the feel of him buried inside me was vivid. What was startlingly was how I was able to recall my encounters with Ranger much better than I'd ever been able to with Morelli. I didn't know if it was because there been far fewer with Ranger, if it was because he was so spectacular in bed, or if it was a sign of my feelings towards both of them. Morelli had been good, though the sex had generally been rough, dirty, and typically followed the same routine. I never knew what to expect with Ranger. He had the distinct ability to be making love to me while adding a certain level of dirty to it that kept it thrilling. I never knew if he was going to get straight to business or if he'd spend a half hour in foreplay. Ranger gave me everything I needed—however I needed it—and got whatever he needed along the way. Reflecting on it, I realized that the difference between my sexual relationships with both men was that Morelli seemed to give me what he had given every other woman he'd boinked in the past while Ranger seemed to give me something that I suspected he'd never given any other woman, which was saying something since I figured his mattress count probably rivaled Morelli's. Sex was purely physical for Morelli while it was very emotional for Ranger.

As I was driving down Hamilton to get to my parents' house, I rehearsed my explanation of what had happened both with Orin and Morelli. My father would likely just ignore the whole thing, not wanting to think about me in bed with a man while my mother would be fretting about what everyone would think and the state of my eternal soul. Grandma Mazur would probably cheer for me and beg me for details of what Ranger looked like naked and how good the sex was. I saw the flash of police strobe lights and slowed down as I approached them. Two police cars had a black SUV pulled over and one officer was searching the car while another was patting down two men who had their legs spread apart and their hands against the vehicle. I realized with a jolt that it was a Rangeman vehicle and the two men being searched were Rangeman employees named Gus and Pedro. I considered pulling over to see if everything was okay, but Gus caught my eye as I drove past and gave a brief shake of his head.

Right, I should keep moving.

I debated about whether to call Ranger, but decided that I should leave the job of telling their boss that they got pulled over and searched to the men. I briefly wondered if it had anything to do with what had happened with Morelli and Ranger, but immediately dismissed it. Morelli would never do that.

My explanation to my family took three times as long as it should have because we were constantly interrupted by a ringing telephone or a chiming doorbell. Everyone in the Burg had heard, and no one had cared about Orin Carr setting me on fire. It had all been about how I screwed the scary, Latino security guy and broke Joseph Morelli's heart. The once-scourge of the Burg was now a much beloved son who had been wronged. Bella Morelli had word out that she had a curse on me and would be giving me the eye as soon as she could find me. The only people not expressing their opinions and disapproval were Morelli's mother, sister and brothers. They were likely just glad to be rid of me and didn't mind that it came at the expense of Morelli's feelings. I'd never been a favorite potential daughter-in-law for Mrs. Morelli. I'd always been the walking disaster that had run over her son and broken his leg. My mother's anxiety became worse with each phone call and by the time I left the house nearly three hours later, she was so drunk that she'd had to go to bed. I had been planning to stay at my parents' house until my apartment was available once again, but given my mother's reaction, I knew I'd better off sleeping at the bus station. I knew I could ask Connie, but what I really wanted was to go home to my place. I needed space and time and privacy to work through my guilt and feelings towards the two men in my life. I dialed Ranger's number on my phone as I pulled out of my parents' drive way and put him on speaker.

"Is there any chance my apartment will be ready any sooner?"

"Not likely. I spoke to the man from the cleaning company a little while ago. The police let them in a few hours earlier than expected, but they still can't get in for the second cleaning until tomorrow morning and they said the apartment needs at least four hours to air out before you can go back in. Are you not planning to stay with your parents tonight?"

"No, I think it's better if I don't. My mother isn't taking the whole _Stephanie Plum is a heart-breaking slut_ gossip very well. I figure it's a little easier if I'm not there."

"You can stay with me again tonight," Ranger said. "Same thing applies as last night: nothing happens unless you want it."

"Thanks. I think I'll do that. I'd stay with Connie, but she's still in the Burg and her neighbors are especially pious."

"You know the drill," Ranger said before he hung up.

I decided to do a little leg work looking for Geoffrey Cubbin to help take my mind off of things. I considered asking Randy Briggs to help me get into the Clinic again, but couldn't quite get my heart into another bumbling B&E at the moment, especially when I was currently at the top of the police department's shit list. As I headed towards Route 1 to go to the complex where the Clinic was located, I saw yet another Rangeman vehicle pulled over. This time, the employees were Tank and Hal. They were standing next to the police cruiser while the cop looked under seats. He probably wasn't brave enough to try to frisk two men twice his size, but he didn't mind searching the car. I caught Tank's eye as I passed and I mouthed the word _sorry._ Tank gave me a _shit happens_ shrug of his shoulders and went back to watching the cop.

I'd been crouched in the woods watching the Clinic for nearly an hour when movement behind me startled me and I nearly screamed.

"You need to be more aware, babe," Ranger said as he crouched next to me. "I could have been that Yeti you keep talking about."

"I saw him go inside a few minutes ago and he hasn't come out again. I was debating about whether to stay or not. Nothing seems to be happening. Nothing ever seems to be happening here."

But as I spoke, the Clinic's garage door opened and the Yeti pulled out in a white van. He pulled around the cul-de-sac and headed out of the industrial complex.

"Let's follow him," Ranger said, grabbing my hand as we rushed back to the parking lot. We piled into his Turbo and followed the white van north on Route 1 until it pulled into the Sunshine Memorial Park. The gates closed behind the van, barring us access to follow it.

"Sunshine is the last name of the guy who owns the Clinic," I told Ranger as we sat outside the gates. "I wonder if it's the same guy."

Ranger sent a quick text message before driving past the cemetery slowly and pulling onto a gravel access road that ran alongside it. Dense trees lined the access road, almost completely blocking the view of the cemetery. I could see about a hundred matching headstones as I scanned for sight of the van. The road we were on came to an intersection with another access road, which led to an empty field.

"There's the van," Ranger said, pointing into the field. "It's hard to see what they are doing from here. I'm going to park here and get closer. You get in the driver's seat and be prepared to get out of here if they see you."

"But what about you? I'm not going to leave you here."

"I can take them on or lose myself in the woods," he replied. "Get in the driver's seat and keep the doors locked unless you see me coming."

Ranger backed the car into a spot between trees to help shield if from view of the other access road. I walked around the car and climbed into the seat after Ranger vacated it. I watched in the mirrors as he made his way through the trees towards the field until he disappeared from my view. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel for ten minutes while I waited for something to happen. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw the white van drive back down the other access road back into the cemetery. It didn't stop, so I had a feeling that I hadn't been spotted, but I was worried about Ranger. It was another five minutes before I saw him walking back to the car. I unlocked the doors and prepared to get out of his seat, but he walked around to the passenger side and climbed in.

"It looks like they are disposing of bodies in that back lot. I saw them put two body bags into a grave and refill the hole. There are other areas where the ground was disturbed, so they've been doing this for a while. We need to take this to the police. You may end up finding your FTA in one of those holes. We should take it to Morelli," he said. He handed me his cell phone, where I found several pictures of the Yeti dragging body bags over to an open grave and shoveling the dirt back in the hole. There were also pictures of other disturbed areas and the license plate on the van.

"Do you think that's a good idea? He may not listen to us."

"I think we're likely to get through to him better than if we walked into the police station."

Good point.

"I saw a Rangeman vehicle pulled over twice today. Do you think it's a coincidence?"

"No, they are rallying behind their brother. My men have been pulled over almost every hour of the day since three o'clock yesterday afternoon. But they know to stay clean when they are on the job just in case they are involved with the police. No citations or arrests."

"I can't believe Morelli would do this," I said as I drove down the access road.

"I don't believe he did. I think the uniforms are just showing solidarity. It'll blow over. Right now, it's just annoying."

"Still, I'm sorry this is happening to your men."

"Stephanie, I've always known that going after you while you were in a relationship with Morelli could blow back on me and my company. If I weren't prepared to accept that, I would have done things differently."

It took thirty minutes to get to Morelli's house from the cemetery, during which time someone called Ranger to inform him that the land was owned by the same Franz Sunshine who owned the Clinic. By the time we'd pulled up in front of the house, a new knot had formed in my stomach. I was not eager to knock on Morelli's door with Ranger at my side, but I knew nothing was going to keep him in the car.

We climbed out just as Morelli was coming out the front door. He was dressed in jeans, an untucked t-shirt and a ball cap on his head. He was likely headed out to do something with one of his brothers. When he saw us approaching, he stopped in place and crossed his arms over his chest, not looking happy.

"What?" he asked stonily.

"It looks like the Clinic might be killing people," I said, getting right to the point so that I didn't lose his attention. "We followed them to a cemetery where they were throwing body bags into unmarked graves. Ranger took pictures."

Morelli took Ranger's cell phone from him and scrolled through the pictures. His pissed-off expression disappeared as his cop face took over. "You think Cubbin could be one of them?"

"It's possible. I've always suspected he was at the Clinic at some point. No sign of him would suggest it. And the cemetery is owned by the same guy who owns the Clinic."

"Send the pictures to my phone and I'll use them to get a warrant, since the land is considered private property. I'll send a team out there to start the excavation while I work on rounding up all of the people involved. I'll come by and get your official statements later. Where are you staying?"

Morelli held up a hand before I could open my mouth. "Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just call you when I need to get together."

Ranger forwarded the pictures to Morelli's cell phone before setting off back towards his office. I had been about to ask about my car when I saw it parked in the underground garage at Rangeman.

"I need to go to my office, but you can head up to the apartment. You look like you could use a nap."

I nodded. "I'm still exhausted from yesterday. I think I'll do that. I'll let you know if I hear from Morelli."

Ranger got off the elevator on the fifth floor and I fobbed my way up to the seventh floor. I let myself into the apartment and left my shoes and purse at the door, but made sure to grab my cell phone. I left it sitting on the bedside table and laid down on the bed. The first face-to-face with Morelli hadn't gone as badly as it could have, but I'd made sure to immediately mention the dead bodies in an effort to prevent guns being drawn. We still had to give him our official statements, which could be very awkward since he would have to interview Ranger and me separately. I could only pray that they both walked out of the room in one piece.

I had fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I was aware of was Ranger sitting on the bed next to me.

"Morelli called to say he's coming here to take our statements in twenty minutes. They've found at least twelve bodies out in that cemetery, including one that they suspect in Geoffrey Cubbin. And they've hauled in the Yeti, Dr. Fish, Nurse Norma, Abu Darhmal, and Franz Sunshine for questioning. They'll likely all be arrested for murder and various other charges," he told me.

"Morelli told you all of that?"

"No, he just said he'd be here in twenty minutes and to make sure we were in separate conference rooms with the surveillance cameras turned off. I got the rest of the information from listening in on the police channels."

"Please don't do anything stupid when it's just the two of you in that conference room," I pleaded. "I don't want to have to visit you in prison or have to explain why Morelli's dead."

"No one would question why Morelli was dead. But I have no intention of doing anything except giving a statement of what I saw in the cemetery."

I sat up on the side of the bed next to Ranger. "It'll be fine, babe."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. I was also worried about my own interview with Morelli. I didn't want to cry, and I especially didn't want to talk about what had happened. In the back of my mind was a small worry that Morelli might suggest getting back together in the future, but I doubted it. He wouldn't have said we were done for good if he hadn't meant it. And I had meant it when I said I loved Ranger and wanted to be with him.

My thoughts were disrupted by Ranger's cell phone ringing. He checked the display and let out a small sigh before answering it.

" _Hola, Mama_."

I nearly gave myself whiplash as I turned to look at Ranger. I didn't have to speak Spanish to know he'd just said hello to his mother. I'd never heard him answer a personal call before. It always surprised me that he had parents and siblings and grandparents. It seemed more likely that he'd been dropped on Earth as an infant when his home planet was under siege.

He listened for a couple of minutes before responding in English. "I think it's time to give her the chance. She's thirty-seven-years old now."

The response on the other end of the line was apparently not a positive one, as Ranger held the phone away from his ear slightly, which allowed me to hear a woman's voice saying something about someone getting hurt without being watched carefully.

"Why don't you, Dad and Aurelia come down to Trenton on Friday for dinner and we can talk about it," he said after another minute. "I have an idea that I'd like to run by all of you."

He made arrangements for his parents and Aurelia—whoever that was— to come to his apartment for dinner at seven on Friday to listen to his idea, which he told his mother he thought would be able to satisfy everyone involved. He said something in Spanish again before he disconnected.

I sat next to him for a moment and debated whether I was allowed to ask him about the phone call. We weren't officially a couple yet, but we were headed that way in the near future. Were almost-girlfriends allowed to ask about parents and women named Aurelia?

"Can you come to dinner on Friday as well?" Ranger asked. "I think I'll need your help in this."

Perfect. Ranger had opened the door, so I was going through it.

"What's going on?"

"My sister Aurelia is four years older than me and has Down Syndrome. She has always lived with my parents, but for the past few years she's been getting more insistent about trying to live on her own. My parents don't think she can do it, nor do the rest of my siblings, but I think she should be given the chance to try. One of my apartments on four just opened up. I'm going to propose that she live there for ninety days to see how well she can do. I can drop in and check on her and make sure she takes her medications. Ella can help her with cleaning, laundry and cooking if she needs it. And I wanted to see if you would help out by trying to be a friend to her, occasionally taking her out to do those female activities that I hate. If she does well, then I'll try to move forward with getting her an apartment away from Rangeman, but close enough that I can easily check on her and be there quickly in an emergency."

As I listened to Ranger talked about his sister, I was again amazed at how little of his personal life I actually knew. He knew everything about me and my family—and likely anyone else close to me—but I didn't have the same advantage. Part of it was annoying, but the other part was exciting. Even though we'd known each other for a few years now, I was still going to get the excitement of learning more about someone with whom I was beginning a new relationship.

"I think that's great," I finally managed to reply. "I'd love to help out in any way I can. It's wonderful that you're going to stand up for your sister like this."

"I owe it to her," Ranger replied as he put an arm around my shoulders. "We were close growing up because we were both the different ones in our family. We didn't play sports or have the top grades. We were both bullied at school and by kids in the neighborhood. But she learned to ignore it and was happy with who she was. I wanted to fit in so badly that I stole a car, which landed me in juvie for six months. I didn't see or talk to her during that time because my parents wouldn't let her come to visit me, even though she was eighteen and allowed to visit the facility. When I was released, my parents informed me that I was going to live in Miami with my grandmother and gave me enough time to go home, grab my things and say goodbye to my siblings. Aurelia had cried and begged my parents not to send me there, then asked to be able to go to Miami to live as well. I'd changed a lot in my six months in juvie—I'd gotten hard and learned to not care about a lot of things. I'd turned into a tough little shit who didn't need his disabled sister fighting for him, and I told her as much."

I watched Ranger's face as he told me the story and was surprised to see the pain on it. He was the master of keeping his emotions in check and it was rare to see him vulnerable. It showed me just how much he regretted the pain he'd caused his sister.

"She was hurt and barely spoke to me during the years I lived in Miami. I would go home at Christmas and for two weeks during the summer, but she would avoid me. I think part of it was because I had hurt her and the rest was from my parents and siblings telling her not to bother me because they didn't want me to hurt her again. But when I finished high school and moved back home to go to Rutgers Newark, we started to work things out. She had gone to school as long as she was legally allowed, so she finished high school the same year I did. She started working in a facility for people with disabilities and earned a little bit of money and learned new skills while I went on to college. I started taking her out every Wednesday night to a movie or dinner or to do something she wanted. It was something that none of our other siblings did with her, so it was special.

But then I joined the Army. When she learned that I was going to be going into the military, she panicked. It was just after 9/11, and we'd had a cousin die trying to save people from one of the Towers. She cried and begged me not to go to war because she didn't want me to die. It was so bad that she started having panic attacks and had to go on medication. Before I left for basic training, she stopped talking to me. She said if she didn't talk to me, then she wouldn't miss me and it wouldn't hurt so much if I got killed. My girlfriend at the time had broken up with me when I told her I had joined the Army, but my sister not wanting to talk to me hurt more than that. And it was only six months after I left home that I got Rachel pregnant, which hurt her even more. She was at home, dealing with my parents' stress over the situation, and it upset her. The first time she saw me after that, which was when I brought Rachel home to meet my family, she yelled at me and said I always made bad choices and screwed up the family. She didn't talk to me again for almost two years. I was in Iraq at that point and had almost been killed in an attack. It was the closest call I'd ever had, and it had terrified me. I called home that day and told my mother to put Aurelia on the phone. Once she had convinced her to talk to me, I told Aurelia that I had almost died that day and the two people who had been in my mind in that moment had been her and Julie. I told her that I couldn't risk my life everyday knowing that she was so angry with me, and that if she wanted me to do it, I would leave the Army and come home. I told her I knew that if I did that I'd probably go to jail, but that I would rather be in jail than to have her hate me for being in the Army and die with that on my conscience. And I meant it. She told me that she loved me, but that she didn't want me to be in jail either. She said if I was happy in the Army, then I should stay, but that I needed to be more careful. And things have been better between us ever since."

Ranger finally glanced in my direction, his expression back to neutral, and gave a small sigh. "Babe."

It took me a few seconds to realize that his reason for the sigh was because there were tears on my cheeks. Hearing him talk about his relationship with her had gotten to me. I quickly wiped them away and sniffed.

"I'm good," I told him. "I'm just fighting the urge to kiss you right now."

Ranger chuckled and pulled me closer to him, his lips only millimeters away from mine. "You don't have to fight it. You can kiss me anytime you like. I won't be fighting it."

I pressed my lips to his briefly before standing up. "I want to keep my head on straight. I have to go face Morelli in a few minutes."

"You'll be fine. You have less to tell him than I do. And I'll be right outside in case you need me to come in and kill him."

"My hero."

 _A/N 2: For those who have read my story, "A Matter of Perspective", you are familiar with Ranger's family as I created them. His sister Aurelia is clearly a different character in this story, despite the name and birth order being the same. The rest of the family will be the same._


	4. Chapter 4

I'd had just enough time to straighten my hair and grab a bottle of water when the front desk announced that the police had arrived for our interviews. We headed down to the fifth floor where Morelli and another man stood between two doors marked with Conference Aand Conference B _._ Morelli was in the same clothes we'd seen him in earlier in the day, but the other man was wearing a black, button-down dress shirt and khakis.

"This is Detective Ryan. He'll be interviewing Ranger," Morelli said as he walked over to Conference Room A. "I'll be interviewing Stephanie in here."

I wasn't sure if I was relieved or worried by the fact that Morelli apparently didn't trust himself enough to be alone in a room with Ranger, but I didn't have time to think about it then. I followed Morelli while Ranger and Ryan headed to the other room. The conference room was decorated in the same style as the rest of the Rangeman building. A large mahogany conference table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by a dozen high-end desk chairs. The walls were cream with a dark trim and there was a pricey flat-screen television on one wall. Presentations were made and deals were brokered in this room, which screamed of success. I took a seat at the end of the table near the door as Morelli closed it. He walked to the long side of the table and sat three seats away from me. He pulled out a notebook and turned on a digital recorder.

"Detective Joseph Morelli of Trenton Police Department interviewing Stephanie Plum. Miss Plum, do you understand that you are not under arrest nor are you a suspect, but you are here to give an eye witness account of a crime and that you have the right to have counsel present?"

"Yes," I said, trying to keep my voice was shaking. "I don't need a lawyer."

"Let the record show that Miss Plum has declined counsel. Miss Plum approached me earlier today with pictures and verbal accounts of suspected murder and body disposal at the Sunshine Memorial Park. Please begin by telling me why you were at Sunshine Memorial Park."

Morelli was in a full-on cop mode. If you didn't know us, I imagined it would look like any other interview and there would be no clue, at least if the focus were on Morelli's demeanor, that he and I had ever had any sort of relationship, let alone a romantic one. Meanwhile, I was nervously twisting my water bottle around in my hands and my knee was bouncing frantically under the table. I launched into a detailed description of what I had been doing to look for Geoffrey Cubbin, all of which had been thankfully legal on this trip, and how I'd ended up at the cemetery. I accounted that Ranger had witnessed the events in the park, but had shown me the pictures on his phone. The whole interview took about twenty minutes and ended with Morelli telling me that if he had any more questions, he would contact me for a second interview. Once he had turned the recorder off, finished a note in his notebook and typed out a message on his phone, he glanced up at me.

"It'll take a few weeks to process the bodies, but there was one that looked like Geoffrey Cubbin. Once he is officially identified, you'll get your paperwork to give to Connie so that you can be paid."

I nodded. "Thanks for handling this."

"It's my job."

"I know, but you could have handed this over to someone else."

"I did—I'm only assisting on the case. Ryan is the primary. My boss said there was too much going on with us to put me in charge. I told Ryan I would interview you because you were just corroborating what he will get out of Ranger. Plus, if I had tried to interview Ranger, I doubt it would have gotten very far before we started beating the shit out of each other."

My fears exactly.

I started to open my mouth again, but a knock on the door interrupted me. Morelli stood and went to the door, where Ryan was waiting on the other side. He walked out into the hall and they headed to the elevator without a glance back. Ranger was leaning against the far wall and waited until Ryan and Morelli had disappeared into the elevator before he spoke.

"How did it go?"

"All well as I could have hoped, I guess. He didn't get into anything personal. Just the job. You?"

"Fine. Ryan wanted to say something, but knew better than to do it."

We took the stairs up to the seventh floor and the smell of dinner met us when we walked into the apartment. We ate our chicken casserole and salad in silence, neither of us sharing our thoughts. I was replaying the last forty-eight hours over in my head, trying to figure out what else was bothering me—besides the obvious.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Ranger asked. "You've been staring at your wine glass for the last five minutes."

"I'm going over everything Morelli and I talked about yesterday—God, was it only yesterday?—and trying to process something he told me. I'm not sure I believe him, but I'm also not sure if it is because I don't want to believe him because it would help me to feel less guilty or if I genuinely think he lied," I said, still focused on my glass.

"What was it?"

"He told me that during the past four years, even when we'd been on one of our breaks, he hadn't been with anyone else. I just don't buy it. I remember thinking after a couple of our break-ups that I had seen things around the house that made me believe there had been another woman there, but they would disappear quickly enough that I couldn't be sure. And I think my brain is overloaded from everything that has happened this weekend, so I can't zero in on details or know if I'm remember things correctly."

Ranger took a long sip of his wine and watched me for a minute. "You should try to relax this evening with another glass of wine and go to bed early. It'll make you feel better in the morning. You were restless last night."

I had been restless because I'd been replaying our conversation over in my head and fighting the desire the climb on top of him the entire night. I had a feeling I would have the same struggles again tonight. But he had a point. I was thinking a long, hot shower, another glass or two of wine, and a movie sounded like a nice way to end the day.

"Will you join me?" I asked as we stood up to clear the table.

"In the shower?"

"I meant for the wine and the television I'm planning to watch," I replied, trying to ignore the adrenal rush I got at the memory of the last time I had showered with Ranger. "But I guess you could join me in there as well."

"So you're changing your mind about not having sex with me right now?"

I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes. "No, I'm not. Are you capable of taking a shower with me without the sex?"

"Definitely not."

Because Ranger's shower head was stationary, my solitary shower ended up being uneventful and short. I dressed quickly in the black t-shirt and shorts I found lying on the bed and headed out to the living room. Ranger was pouring us each a glass of wine and settling down on the couch. I took mine, curled up on the couch next to him, and channel surfed until I found _The Firm_ on television. By the second glass of wine, I was starting to fall asleep. I didn't remember going to bed, but I was there when the sound of Ranger's alarm woke me up the next morning. He was spooning me with one hand resting on my belly and morning would digging into my back.

"Is my apartment going to be ready today?" I asked as I felt myself go damp at the thought of what Ranger would do to me if I only asked.

"Yes. Too much temptation to keep spending the night with me?"

"It always is, except this time I'm not trying to avoid cheating on Morelli."

Ranger placed a kiss on my neck before he climbed out of bed. "I know, and being patient isn't easy."

I went back to sleep and didn't begin my day until ten that morning when I walked into the bond's office and learned that Uncle Sunny, the Burg's resident charmer and Morelli's godfather, had skipped out on bail and it was now my job to haul his ass back to the sling. Most of the Burg was already pissed off at me on behalf of Morelli. They'd be chasing me out of Trenton with torches and pitchforks once they learned I was after Sunny. Lula and I spent some time checking on Sunny's various properties, but repeatedly struck out. He owned too many buildings and knew too many people for me to be able to sneak up on him. It was shortly after two when the call came in from Ranger that my apartment was ready. Upon returning home half an hour later, I noticed a very faint chemical smell, but there were no signs that anyone had died in my apartment only two days before. I was surprised to find Rex waiting for me on the kitchen counter. Next to his cage were a bottle of champagne along with a check and a note from Ranger.

 _For a job well done. I'll be around later._

I ran a hand along the champagne bottle, deciding that I wanted to save it for a special occasion. Like the day Ranger and I finally moved into an official relationship. I nearly fell over when I saw the amount on the check. I made a mental note to ask Ranger if I had received combat pay or a bonus as his almost-girlfriend. I'd just started flipping the through the mail I'd retrieved on my way into the building when there was a knock at my door. I peaked cautiously through the peephole to see a middle-aged man wearing a delivery uniform walking away from my door. I waited until I heard the elevator ding before I opened the door and found a small padded envelope on the floor. It didn't look big enough to be a bomb, but I grabbed an umbrella from near the door and poked it anyway for good measure. Nothing.

I picked it up and took it inside, ripping the top open and dumping the contents onto my kitchen counter. It turned out to be a DVD, the rewriteable type that could be purchased everywhere and used to copy everything from home videos to pirated movies. The disc wasn't labeled, but since it was a DVD, I was able to watch it on the television instead of putting my laptop at risk of a virus. It took a few seconds for the disc to begin playing, but it only took me a nanosecond after it began to know what was on it.

Someone had accessed the recordings Orin had made of Ranger and me in bed together and had sent them to me.

I watched in horror as Ranger moved over me, thrusting into me as he fisted his hands in my hair. I continued to watch until I heard both of us moan loudly and Ranger stilled, resting his forehead on mine. Numb, I went in search of my cell phone to call Ranger and found that I'd had five missed calls in the short time since I'd spoken to him, one each from Connie, Mary Lou, Vinnie's wife Lucille, my parents' number, and a number I didn't recognize. Shit. I prayed as I hit the speed dial for my parents' number that everyone had simply been calling to tell me about a zombie apocalypse in progress and not because they had received copies of the same disc. My grandmother answered on the first ring.

"I saw you called," I said. "What's up?"

"It wasn't me, it was your mother. She was calling because we got a video from the FedEx guy a little bit ago. We put it in the DVD player and it turned out to be a sex tape of you and Ranger. Your mother and father are out in the garage sharing a bottle of Wild Turkey and talking about whether or not they should move."

I groaned and put my free hand over my eyes. My parents had not only seen me naked, but in _flagrante delicto_ with Ranger. We weren't a family that talked about or acknowledged sex if we could possibly avoid it. I preferred to believe that Valerie and I had simply sprang into existence one day rather than to consider that my parents may have been having sex.

"But look on the bright side," Grandma continued cheerily. "I got to cross number two off of my bucket list."

"What was that?"

"Seeing Ranger naked."

I turned my phone completely off after I disconnected from Grandma. I didn't think I could handle talking to anyone else for a while. I headed back to the living room where the recording was still playing. In it, I had fallen asleep and Ranger was propped up on one elbow watching me. He would occasionally place a kiss in my hair or rub his thumb across my bottom lip, but didn't move otherwise. The camera had been hidden somewhere on my dresser and the view of Ranger's face was uninhibited. It brought tears to my eyes to see how open his emotions were when he thought there was no one to see them. It didn't take someone who knew Ranger to see the love on his face when he looked down at me. He whispered something I couldn't hear before pulling me into him and going to sleep. I replayed those few seconds again but with the volume turned up to what should have been a deafening volume.

"I'll be ready one of these days," he said. "I just hope it doesn't come too late."

I turned the volume back down and watched as the video skipped ahead to when Ranger and I had started up the second round of sex. I felt myself blushing as I watched Ranger go down on me, wondering just how many people had seen him do that to me and heard the moans I'd emitted the second his lips touched me.

When the recording ended, I started it over. I wasn't sure why I was watching it again. I'd been there in person for the encounters and had already seen it from an outsider's view once, but I eventually realized that what I was wanting to see was Ranger watching me sleep again. The vulnerability on his face was fascinating and it brought the emotion back up inside me as I thought about that look and those words. Even in some of our most special moments, I had never seen Ranger look at me with anything close to that level. In fact, I had never seen anyone look at me like that before. It was like something you would expect to find in a movie, only this was real. It was in my life.

I had just finished watching it the second time through when my apartment door opened and Ranger appeared. His demeanor was deadly calm and in control, which was the sign that he was well and truly pissed off.

"You heard?"

"I received my own copy," he replied, nodding towards the television. "And from what I've heard, there are several copies going around town."

I nodded. "I don't know how many, but I know my parents got one," I said and my throat started to tighten. "And they saw—they saw—." But I couldn't finish before I burst into tears.

Ranger came to sit next to me on the sofa and pulled me into him. My tears soaked his black t-shirt while he rubbed my hair and back and rested his cheek on top of my head. He didn't say anything while he held me, didn't try to get me to stop crying, but held me until I had stopped. I pulled away from him to grab a tissue and blow my nose before I spoke again.

"I'm so embarrassed that people are seeing this, especially my family. I've never felt so violated. I mean, what if some idiot puts this on Youtube? My nieces could see it. Your daughter could see it . Or worse, Vinnie could see it and keep it in his spank bank." I shuddered at that thought. "I think that's almost worse than my nieces seeing it."

"I'm already working on it," Ranger told me. "I called my lawyer as soon as I saw what it was. He's going to be talking to Trenton PD about it. I'm sure Internal Affairs will investigate and will do a good job of it. Otherwise, the streets are going to run with cop blood until I find out who did this."

"I don't _think_ Morelli would do this," I said. "But I guess I can't be certain. I hurt him, so he might be wanting to get back at me. But I also think this would be embarrassing for him as well, since everyone knows that this is part of what ended our relationship."

"I'm going to find out who did this, though I have to admit this is one of the tamer attacks that you and I have received in a while. I almost prefer this," Ranger said, watching the television as the video automatically began replaying.

"Not me. I'm pretty sure I'd rather have someone trying to burn down my apartment. Memories are long in the Burg, and since my last name isn't Hilton or Kardashian, a sex tape isn't going to enhance my reputation around there. Though you are likely going to have to beat women off with a stick now that they've seen and heard about your moves. My grandmother told me that she got to cross number two off her bucket today, which was to see you naked," I informed Ranger, feeling a slight sense of pleasure at the pained expression on his face. "Now you know how I feel when you say shit like 'this is one of the tamer attacks' and 'I almost prefer it'."

Ranger squeezed my hand and gave me a quick kiss before he stood up. "I deserved that. I'm off to see what I can learn about which person did this. I'll come back over tonight."

With that, he left the apartment and I wondered which member of the Trenton PD was going to soon wish they were dead.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: This chapter will be from Ranger's POV. I like to throw these in on occasion just for something different. And no, I don't have a copy of Ranger's sex tape. Damn it…._

I let myself into Morelli's house ten minutes after leaving Stephanie's apartment. I wasn't about to bother with knocking when there was a strong likelihood that we were going to end up kicking each other's ass. Especially if he'd seen the recording or had been the one spreading the copies. I didn't really believe he was the one who had done it, but I had to check anyway. Plus, I would be able to spread word through Morelli to the Trenton PD about the consequences for this particular crime.

Morelli's house was dark and the only light came from the television. He was sitting on his couch drinking straight out of a bottle of tequila while watching the recording of me in bed with Stephanie. On the screen, I had one hand busy between Stephanie's legs while I sucked on one of her nipples. I had a small flashback to that moment, remembering how she had felt and how I'd suspected she might be ovulating based on the little changes I had noticed in her body that night. I'd had to remind myself on more than one occasion that I couldn't take any chances once we'd run out of condoms.

Morelli finally sensed my presence and looked back over the couch. He snorted derisively when he saw me standing there.

"Fuck off."

Best to get straight to the point, I thought. Not that I didn't do that in every other aspect of life anyway, but especially when confronting someone who also carried a gun.

"I'm trying to find out who took it upon themselves to disseminate this around the Burg."

Morelli paused with the tequila bottle half-way up to his lips. "What do you mean? Are you saying that other people have seen this besides cops?"

"Stephanie and I both received a copy, as did her parents, best friends and at least several other people who know her."

Morelli looked like he might be sick and as he put the bottle down on the coffee table and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair and paced back and forth for a minute before speaking again. His was wearing a Yankees t-shirt and a pair of running shorts that looked like they'd been worn for a couple of days. He looked like he hadn't shaved in the same amount of time.

"I've been shut up in here for the last two days. I turned off my phone so that I didn't have to talk to anyone. Shit, I can't believe this. I'm humiliated."

Self-centered son of a bitch.

" _You're_ humiliated?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you are?" Morelli asked with a humorless laugh. "I didn't think you were capable of human feelings."

Asshole.

"I'm not humiliated. I'm not particularly happy that Stephanie's grandmother can now cross number two off of her bucket list because she has seen me naked, but I'll manage. _Stephanie_ is humiliated. Her parents saw her having sex with me. Who knows how many people have seen this and she feels violated. I don't care what people think about me or what they do to me, but I'm not going to stand by and let someone try to ruin her. So if you have any idea who did this, you had better tell me. Because if I find out that you knew and let it happen, you'll be joining the asshole that did this on the bottom of the Delaware."

"You actually have the balls to come in here and threaten me after you have the nerve to fuck my girlfriend? You knew she was in a relationship with me; you knew she was in love with you and you used that to get her in bed. You took advantage of her and it ended our relationship. I hate that people are seeing this, but you what? I think it's karma. I think it's what you two had coming."

Maybe it was karma, but I didn't have to like it. I knew I'd done a lot of bad in my life that I was trying to make up for, but Stephanie wasn't part of it. She was the best thing that had happened to me in the past four years and I was beginning to think that maybe I'd finally atoned for my sins and had been awarded this woman's love. Maybe we'd messed up our karma a little bit by screwing around while she was in a semi-committed relationship, but I suspected the universe or God wasn't that upset with us.

"I didn't take advantage of Stephanie," I said, feeling the anger start to build up inside me. "She could have said no, just like she has the countless other times I've tried to get her in bed. You chose to end your relationship with her. And you don't have the right to be that pissed off considering you were the one who left the status of your relationship with her open. You two agreed that you could see other people if you wanted to, but when she does you say she's cheating. Which is it, Morelli?"

"She _could_ have seen other people. I just didn't want her seeing _you_ ," he shot back, taking a few steps forward so that he was only a few feet away. "And she knew that. Shit, I've known for a long time now that you two were in love with each other, but I ignored it. I ignored it because I knew you'd never commit to her and she wouldn't be able to handle any other type of relationship with you. I knew you were in love with her when Eddie Abruzzi _conveniently_ committed suicide the day after he kidnapped her. And I knew she was in love with you the day she watched you get shot in her apartment. But again, I ignored it. I wanted her. She's it for me, but I'm not the one for her. Hawaii just reinforced that and then finding your condoms in her trash can on Saturday sealed my fate with her. I'd rather be alone for the rest of my life than have to always question whether or not you've fucked her right before me. I don't want to have to spend one more night in bed with her, hearing her talk about you in her sleep or having to pretend that she didn't almost say your name while I'm inside her. So you can have her, but I'll be damned if I'm going to feel sorry for either of you that other people are seeing this."

We stood and stared at each other for a minute, as though we were just waiting for the other to make the move. The moment was broken when Stephanie's moans came out loudly from the television, where I had started thrusting into her, one of her legs thrown over my shoulder. Orin's camera angle was in the perfect position to see me sliding in and out of her. Morelli looked sick and quickly walked over to the coffee table, picked up the remote and turned off the DVD player, leaving a blue screen to light the room. Our eyes met once more and I took that moment to turn and leave. Morelli didn't know anything, I had surmised that much, but he wasn't going to be of any help in finding out who was behind it all.

I called my lawyer, John Wolowski, as I pulled away from Morelli's house. I paid the man substantially to be on retainer, which meant that I could call him day or night. I typically saved my business for office hours, but this was something that needed to be addressed.

"Have you talked to Trenton PD yet?" I asked when John answered his cell phone.

"I have. I ended up on a conference call with the Chief of Police, the head of Internal Affairs and the mayor of Trenton. They are scrambling and apologetic, swearing they'll get to the bottom of it, collecting as many copies as they can, the harassment from patrol will stop, blah, blah, blah. I think they are less afraid of being sued and having their reputation trashed on national television and more afraid that you'll slaughter them all."

"They aren't all idiots," I told him. "I just talked to Morelli, Stephanie's ex-boyfriend. He claims to have nothing to do with it and I believe him, but I imagine that IA will want to rule him out anyway. But I want whoever did this to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I'll talk to Stephanie about whether she wants to pursue civil suits against them as well."

I disconnected from John and sat at a stoplight while I figured out my next move. It was too late to do much else in person and I already had someone doing searches on the delivery company that had been tasked with distributing the discs. I could go back to my office and work or I could go back to Stephanie's and stay with her. The light had just turned green when my cell phone rang with a call from the front desk of Rangeman.

"Mr. Rupert Gillian is on the phone. Should I send him to your voicemail or would you prefer I transfer him to you now?"

"I'll take it," I replied, wondering what would have him calling me at almost ten o'clock at night, especially when his mother had been recently murdered and left in a dumpster.

"Ranger, I'm sorry to call so late, but I've been so busy lately with everything that I've barely had a moment alone," Rupert said once he was connected to my cell.

"Not a problem. What can I do for you?"

"I know you don't do private investigations, but I was wondering if you would make an exception for my situation. I know the Trenton Police are trying to find out who murdered my mother, but they are bogged down with red tape and procedures. I was wondering if you could do some digging of your own to see if you can come up with any other angles. It just doesn't make sense why someone would want to kill my mother. She was a saint."

I could understand Rupert's need to figure out who killed his mother. She had been the same age as my grandmothers and the idea of them being murdered and left in dumpsters made me sick. I pulled into Stephanie's lot resolved to help him, hopefully with her assistance. She had the Burg contacts and could do the socializing that I couldn't manage.

"I'll see what I can find out," I told him. "Send me a summary of her weekly activities and close friends and anything the police have told you about the investigation. I'll get in touch if I find anything different."

Stephanie had gone to bed in the hour since I'd left her apartment. I shut her door and secured it behind me before heading to her bedroom. She was lying in the middle of the bed, curled up on her side facing me. I was glad to see that she seemed to be sleeping peacefully despite the stress of the evening. I stripped out of my clothes and climbed into bed next to her. She stirred briefly, but didn't wake as I pulled her into my arms and fell asleep.

The alarm on my watch woke us both at five the next morning. Stephanie groaned and lifted her head off my chest, looking confused.

"When did you get here?"

"Around ten. You were already asleep."

Apparently content with that explanation, she laid her head back down on my chest. "Did you learn anything last night about the DVDs?"

"Morelli isn't involved. He didn't know anyone else had been sent a copy. My lawyer talked to the police department and they are starting their internal investigation today."

Stephanie's whole body tensed and she lifted her head once again, her expression was alert this time. "Did you go talk to Morelli last night?"

"Yes."

"How did that go?"

"We both survived it uninjured, but he isn't going to be helpful. He doesn't know who would be behind it, but he isn't offering any sympathy either. Not that I expected any."

We laid in bed for half an hour longer, not talking but not sleeping either. I was running through my schedule for the day, trying to add in time to look into the Gillian murder. I was putting the sex tape issue on the back burner for now, since both Trenton Police's IA and Tank were doing their own investigations into it. I also needed to talk to Ella about my plans for Aurelia and preparing dinner for my family on Friday. Before leaving to go back to the office, I brought Stephanie up to speed on the Gillian murder and asked if she would be willing to help. Socializing with Burg citizens wasn't high on her list of ideal activities at the moment, but she was willing to do it in an effort to help figure out who was murdering older women and hopefully help prevent another death.

My day was filled meetings with current clients and the head of a small security firm from Indianapolis that was interested in merging with Rangeman. They offered a similar type of service as mine, but the quality was subpar. He was wanting to be the managing director of the branch and to have equal interest in that branch of the firm. I was interested in expanding to a new city, but wasn't interested in more business partners, which I told him. When I'd merged all of my offices into Rangeman Securities nearly four years ago, I'd done so with the plan to eventually buy each of my four partners out until I was the sole owner. Business had been so good during those four years that I had already bought out two and I was currently in negotiations to buy out a third. I told him I would review the business plan with my attorney and financial advisor and contact him about whether I was interested in moving forward. After the meeting, I found Tank waiting for me in the hallway.

"There is someone who wants to speak to you in Conference Room A," he told me as he pressed the button for the elevator. "He's from the police department."

The man sitting in the next room looked to be about thirty. He had blond hair, green eyes and was in good physical shape. He looked like someone I would have hired with the exception of the look of pure fear on his face. I could tell his leg was bouncing underneath the table and there was a small sheen of sweet on his forehead.

"I'm told you need to speak to me," I said, taking a seat at the head of the table.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Manoso. I'm Roland J-j-jones. I work in the Tech division at the Trenton Police Department. I p-p-process technological evidence that comes through, like computers, cell phones and software. I'm the one who had to process your—uh, I mean, yours and S-s-stephanie P-plum's, um, recording from her apartment," Jones informed me, not meeting my gaze.

"I'm listening."

"I did something I shouldn't have, Mr. Manoso. I, uh, I took the laptop that we retrieved from the apartment home with me one night. I have better equipment at home to process some of the security features that were on the laptop," Jones replied, blushing slightly.

Sure. And I used to steal my brother's Playboys to read the articles.

"Anyway, I had it at home with me and the woman I've been, uh, _seeing_ was there. And—and I think she might have copied the recording from the laptop. I had been processing it and she came over and saw it. Then we—uh, got d-d-distracted."

"You and your girl got off on watching Stephanie and me have sex," I finished for him. "Who is she? And why do you think she did this?"

"She told me she knew you both. And I forgot to secure the laptop after she started—well, um, anyway, I fell asleep after—she's a monster in bed— and then today I heard about the movies going around the Burg. I wanted to come to you f-first and to say I'm sorry. I know I screwed up," Jones finished, looking petrified. "I just want to live, if I can."

"Who is the woman?"

"Joyce Barnhardt."

Stephanie was going to lose her shit when she found out. Joyce was as obnoxious as they come and she hadn't wasted any opportunity she'd ever had to try to get me in bed. Thankfully, I'd never been desperate enough to stoop that low. Otherwise, I'd have put a bullet in my brain. Why she was even interested in this guy was beyond me. She generally went for rich, powerful men. This guy was neither. Not that he was a bad guy. I had the feeling he was actually a pretty good guy who deserved a woman a hell of a lot better than Joyce. Undoubtedly, he was just a distraction for her until the next sugar daddy came around.

"I expect your next stop is to tell your boss?" I asked, causing Jones to jump.

"Yes, sir. I figure I'll probably get fired, but I can get a new job. If I'm allowed to live, I mean."

"I'm not going to kill you. I think you're a poor cop and an idiot for getting involved with Joyce Barnhardt, but I don't think you're a bad guy. I think you made a mistake and that you aren't the only one who could have made it. Go into your boss and tell him what you told me."

Jones nearly cried with relief. "Thank you, sir. And I'm really sorry. I can't imagine how embarrassing this has been for you and Stephanie."

"We'll live. And so will you."

I was on the elevator making my way to Ella and Louis's apartment when my cell phone started ringing.

"Hey, Mom," I said, wondering what she wanted now. I love my mother, but she's exhausting at times.

" _Hola, mijo._ I wanted to talk to you about Friday. Your brother and sisters are wanting to come down to talk about this as a family. They are worried about what you might be wanting to do and they want to be able to ask questions and make suggestions."

Only years of perfecting my self-control and the knowledge that someone in the monitoring room would see stopped me from beating my head against the wall of the elevator. My siblings were going to be pains in my ass about this. We all got along well enough considering I haven't spent much time with them since I was fourteen, but there had always been an issue between us where Aurelia was concerned. I'd always wondered what the issue was exactly. Was it because I'd hurt her in the past or because I hadn't always made the best choices in life? Because I hadn't really been around much in the past twenty years? I was the Stephanie of my family: the one with the dangerous job who made questionable choices and didn't follow along with what my family thought I should be doing. My father had wanted me to take over his business and my mother had wanted me to be a doctor. My Grandma Rosa had wanted me to become a priest. My Grandma Bella had been the only one who had seen what I really needed. She had been the one to suggest that I join the Army when I found college a bad fit for me.

"I don't have room for everyone at my apartment, so it'll just have to be the immediate family. No spouses or kids," I told my mother as the elevator doors opened on Ella's floor.

"That's fine. I told them as much, so they are arranging for everyone else to come to our house with the kids and they'll order pizzas."

After I disconnected from my mother, I sent Stephanie a text message to suggest dinner at my apartment at six. She replied back instantly to say she would be there. I spent the next forty minutes talking to Ella about my idea for Aurelia while she prepared dinner. She was enthusiastic about the prospect of my sister living at Rangeman and was eager to help her in any way she could. I told her about my family dinner on Friday and told her just to have it catered rather than add to her workload, especially since my siblings invited themselves. I spent the last twenty minutes waiting for Stephanie by reviewing an email from Rupert about his mother's activities. Nothing particularly noteworthy. He also mentioned that her viewing was on Thursday evening from six to eight. That would be worth exploring, seeing as most of the people she had known with would be in one spot. It also allowed us to see if anyone else knew the other women who had been murdered and if there were any connections.

Stephanie arrived right at six and I immediately handed her a glass of wine. I wanted to get her a little more relaxed before I told her about Joyce. She was going to be furious anyway, but I hoped to keep her blood pressure out of stroke range.

"I got an update on the culprit behind turning us into Burg legends," I told her after she'd finished off her first glass.

"Really? Who? Did you kill them already? Because if you haven't, I want to be able to kick them a few times first."

I launched into the story Roland Jones told me, saving Joyce's name for the end. I could practically see the steam coming off of Stephanie's body as she processed the information. After a few seconds of tense silence, she stood up quickly and reached for her purse.

"I'm done. I'm kicking her ass. I don't care if I got to jail. It'll be worth it," she said, digging for her keys.

I immediately took her purse and put in on the floor next to me. "I don't want you to go to jail, so let's not go over there just yet. Jones told me he was going into his supervisor as soon as he left here, so I imagine the police will be bringing Joyce in for questioning. Let's wait until we hear what they have to say."

Stephanie ended up spending the night at my apartment, as she'd started to fall asleep at the table after her third glass of wine. I enjoyed having her in bed next to me, but maintaining restraint was difficult. I'd never wanted someone so much as I wanted Stephanie. Once I'd had a taste of her, I couldn't get enough. And I hadn't found the satisfaction I was wanting in either of the two women I'd had since that first time with her. They had both been women that I'd slept with in the past when the need for sex was too great to ignore, but after that first time with Stephanie, I'd realized I was a changed man. I had jokingly told her I would ruin her for all other men—and I may have done so—but the reality was she had ruined me for all other women. Both physically and emotionally.

I reminded her that I would pick her up at six-thirty on Thursday to go to Melvina Gillian's funeral as she left my apartment in a hung over haze on Wednesday morning. My schedule was packed for the rest of the day, but I made it a priority to call my attorney to get an update on the investigation.

"Jones met with IA and the Chief and told his story," John told me. "They hauled this Joyce Barnhardt in for questioning and she tried to deny it all at first, but she eventually caved. She didn't think it was 'that big of a deal'. She was charged and booked last night for tampering with evidence, interfering with a police investigation, theft, and invasion of privacy. There are also several civil charges that you and Stephanie could both bring against her if you want. I did some digging into Barnhardt's background and she's loaded from three divorces. You two could take her to the cleaners. Not that you need it, but it might make Stephanie's life easier."

Thursday evening arrived a little more quickly than I would have liked. Not that seeing Stephanie in a sexy black dress didn't make the evening worth it, but the prospect of going to a Burg social event after the week's events was not pleasant. I picked up Stephanie, contemplated skipping the viewing and just taking her on her living room floor, but then pulled it together enough to get her out the door. She blew out a heavy sigh as well pulled into the funeral home's lot and parked.

"I'm not looking forward to this."

"Me neither. Let's see how much work you can get done in the least amount of time."

I stayed close to Stephanie while she talked to people, asking how they'd known Melvina. I could feel every set of eyes within viewing distance on us and the chatter of gossip grew louder. After the third woman my grandmother's age slipped her phone number into my pocket with a wink, I decided to seek out Rupert to see if there had been any new information since he'd emailed me on Tuesday.

"Ranger, thanks for coming," Rupert said, shaking my hand as I approached. He was in his mid-fifties with black hair and green eyes. He was dressed in somber navy blue suit and matching tie. His wife was standing next him. She was a couple of years younger than him and was wearing a dark green dress.

"I have someone talking to the people in the room who knew your mother and may have also been connected to some of the other victims. We'll see if there is any connection."

"Would that person be Stephanie Plum?" Rupert asked, nodding to a place over my shoulder where Stephanie was talking to a woman that looked to be close to ninety.

"Yes, she's better at small talk than I am."

Rupert nodded and met my eyes briefly, which told me that he knew about the sex tape that had made its way around the Burg, but wisely didn't say anything about it. I noticed his wife on more than one occasion raking her eyes over me.

"Is there anything else I need to know at this point? Any new information from the police?"

Rupert shook his head. "They said there isn't any physical evidence that ties all of the murders together. They did say that it looked like—," he stopped, looking pained to continue. His wife patted his arm. "I'll tell him, honey. I know it makes you uncomfortable. They said it looked like she'd had sex that evening," she finished for him. "But the guy must have used a condom because there wasn't any semen."

"Was it rape or consensual?"

"Consensual. They said there weren't any defensive marks to suggest that she had struggled. And there was evidence of lubricant, which would also imply consent. I don't know of any rapists who would bother with that."

Rupert looked like he might be sick for which I couldn't blame him. Not that it was unexpected that people my grandparents' age were still having sex—I knew I intended to be if I lived that long—but having to discuss your mother's sexual activities that had preceded her death wasn't remotely comfortable. I thanked them both, offered my condolences and sought out Stephanie, who was now talking to her grandmother. I considered avoiding them, but Stephanie caught my eye and gave me a look that said I'd better get over there if I knew what was good for me. I contemplated pulling a fire alarm as I made my way across the room, but didn't want anyone's death by heart attack on my conscience. After an embarrassing five minutes with Edna Mazur and her friends, Stephanie and I were spared further conversation by the signaling that the viewing was over.

Being in the confined quarters of my car with Stephanie in her little black dress was a welcome distraction from the mortifying evening we'd just had. As I pulled into a spot in her lot, I ran my hand up her thigh, hearing her breath hitch. I turned off the car, unbuckled both of our seatbelts and pulled her into me. I swapped my right hand for my left and worked my way into her underwear. She moaned against my mouth as I slid a finger into her while my thumb rubbed circles against her clitoris. She was close to an orgasm when my cell phone started ringing. I ignored the ringing as I kept working my hand, not wanting to leave her without some closure. By the third ring, she had cried out loudly and bucked against my hand. We were both breathing heavily as I extracted my hand from under her dress. My phone had stopped ringing by then, but I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that a text message had been sent immediately after.

 **Another body found twenty minutes ago in a dumpster behind the button factory.**

"There's been another murder," I told Stephanie. "I'm going to go check it out. I'll be back tonight to fill you in on what I find out and you can let me know what you learned at the viewing tonight. And then we can continue _this_."

She nodded distractedly, grabbed her purse and climbed out of the car. I watched her go into her building before I pulled away and headed towards the crime scene. I was thankful that the drive to the button factory took twenty minutes, as it gave me enough time to get rid of my erection. I cleaned my hands with hand sanitizer before I got out of the car, not wanting to the smell of Stephanie to advertise what I had been doing only minutes before. Butch Shiller was the lead detective on the dumpster murders and he was looking unhappy as he stood by and watched the crime scene techs take pictures.

"Rupert Gillian told me he's asked you to look into the murder of his mother from a civilian angle," Shiller said without preamble. "Just stay out of my way and keep me informed of anything you find out."

"Understood," I replied. "Is it the same set up as the rest of the women?"

"Yes, strangled and left in the dumpster, wrapped in a sheet with the note on the outside. Sick bastard."

I stood by for a few more minutes, observing my surroundings and watching as the medical examiner proceeded to pull the body out of the dumpster. The sheet was unwrapped and I could see a woman somewhere in her seventies with gray hair lying on the ground. Something about her reminded me of Edna Mazur and I got a chill thinking about how Stephanie would feel if it were her grandmother being pulled out of a dumpster. I left the scene a few minutes later and headed back to Stephanie's, unable to shake the image of the dead woman.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: This chapter is back to Stephanie's POV._

It was five-thirty Friday afternoon and I was standing in my bedroom looking down at the five outfits on my bed, trying to decide which to wear to dinner with Ranger's family. And if I didn't leave in the next five minutes, I was going to be late. Way to make an impression, Stephanie. I already looked ridiculous because I had the middle finger of my right hand in a splint from falling down the stairs in an attempt to apprehend Uncle Sunny earlier in the day. With three minutes left to go, I spun around twice, closed my eyes and grabbed at something on the bed, which turned out to be a light blue sundress. I threw it over my head, pulled the strappy heels that went with it, and grabbed my purse as I ran out the door, yelling a goodbye to Rex.

I pulled into the garage at Rangeman at two minutes to six. I hurried to the elevator and headed up to the seventh floor, checking my hair in the reflection on the doors. The elevator stopped on the fifth floor and Ranger got on. He was dressed in similar attire to what he'd worn to the viewing the night before with the addition of a black tie. As soon as the elevator doors closed, he began removing his tie and unbuttoned the collar on his shirt, taking his C.E.O. look from day to night in five seconds.

"How's your hand?" he asked, nodding towards my finger.

"It hurts," I replied. "And I couldn't afford the prescription painkillers they wanted me to take, so I'm trying to get by on Tylenol. You don't happen to have anything stronger, do you?"

"I'll check. My family is already here. I had a last minute meeting come up, so I had Ella meet them and take them up. They've been here about ten minutes, which has probably been enough time for my brother to start snooping through the apartment."

I bit my lip and refrained from mentioning how I'd snooped through his apartment the first time I had stayed there while he had been out of town.

Ranger opened the door to the apartment and the sound of several voices met our ears. We headed towards the living room to find several women sitting around talking to Ella while a man that I assumed was Ranger's father stood to the side.

" _Hola,_ Carlos," the man said pulling Ranger into a manly hug. He had the same intelligent dark eyes, skin tone and dimples as Ranger but was slightly taller. He was wearing a blue shirt with short sleeves that showed off strong arms and hands that looked like they had spent many years doing manual labor. He was very good-looking for his age and had an air of being friendly and approachable.

"Hey, Dad," Ranger said as they released each other. "This is Stephanie Plum. Steph, this is my father, Javier."

Javier Manoso went to shake my hand, but then noticed the splint on my finger. "Oh dear, what happened to your hand?"

"I fell down some stairs today and broke my finger."

Javier took my hand gingerly in his own and looked at it. "It looks swollen, but not like a compound fracture. I've broken fingers several times in my life. You keep that splint on and you'll be as good as new in a few weeks," he said, placing a small kiss on the top of my hand. It took all that I had in me not giggle like a giddy teenager at the sweet gesture. Ranger had clearly gotten his charm from his father.

While we had been talking, one of the women had gotten up from the sofa and made her way across the room. She was several inches shorter than me, I guessed she was barely five feet tall, and carried a few extra pounds on her frame, but not much. She had a round face and dark brown eyes that were slightly slanted upwards. She was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a purple polo shirt. She and Ranger shared the same smile.

"Carlos!" she said happily, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Hey, Lia," he replied, kissing her on the top of the head. "What musical did you listen to on the way down?"

" _Rent._ Sofia and I rode down in her car and listened to it the whole way. I think she liked it," she replied. Her speech was thick and slightly difficult to understand, but I found that I could understand it if I took a second or two longer to process it.

"We drew straws," Javier chimed in, giving Ranger a significant look.

"Mom said you have a plan for me to live all by myself. What is it?" Aurelia asked.

"I'll tell everyone at the same time," Ranger replied. "After we eat dinner."

Aurelia looked slightly disappointed to not be informed right away, but seemed to quickly overcome it when she turned to face me. "Are you Stephanie?"

"Yes, she is," Ranger said, putting a hand on my back. "She's part of my plan."

Aurelia threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly. I attempted to pat her on the back, which was awkward because she had pinned my arms to my sides. Javier patted her on the back gently.

" _Mija,_ be careful. She has a broken finger."

Aurelia pulled away from me and looked down at my hand. "Oh, sorry."

"It's okay," I told her. "I keep forgetting about it."

"I'll go see if I have any painkillers left," Ranger whispered before leaving the room.

"Let me introduce you to my wife and other daughters," Javier said, gently guiding me over to the rest of the women. "Girls, this is Stephanie, Carlos's, um, friend."

An older woman dressed in tan slacks and a pale yellow blouse stood up and walked over to me. Her hair was cut in a choppy bob that suited her face. I saw Ranger in her high cheekbones and radiant smile.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you, Stephanie," she said, kissing me lightly on the cheek. "I'm Lola, Carlos's mother. I see you've met Aurelia. These are my other daughters, Celia, Silvia, and Sofia."

She had indicated the three remaining women sitting on the sofa. I placed Celia in her early forties. She had shoulder-length, straight brown hair and the beginnings of laugh lines around her mouth. She was wearing a navy blue skirt and white blouse that made me think of a teacher I had in elementary school. Sofia looked be in her mid-to-late-thirties and was elegantly gorgeous. She had a body that was clearly kept toned by exercise and a healthy diet, much like Ranger's. Her brown hair had blonde highlights streaked through it and I noticed several large diamonds adorning her ears, neck and left hand. She was wearing one of those outfits that was supposed to look simple and casual, but had likely cost more than my last car. Silvia looked to be the closest to Ranger's age and was hot in a dirty kind of way. I couldn't really find any other way to describe her. Her attitude, body and clothes screamed _sex_ and I imagined she was the type of woman who would be up to _anything_ with _anyone._

While we exchanged greetings, Ella answered her cell phone and informed the room that dinner had been delivered and we could eat in a few minutes. Lola had just followed Ella into the kitchen when Ranger reappeared in the living room accompanied by another man that I assumed was Emilio. He heavily-resembled Javier, but was taller than his father. His nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken multiple times, and he had a smug smile on his face and a glint in his eye like a mischievous boy who had gotten into the cookies without his mother finding out.

"And this is my son, Emilio," Javier said with a shake of his head. "Who must have been doing something he shouldn't have."

"I was just checking the place out," Emilio said, winking at me. Ranger responded by smacking him on the back of the head.

We all headed towards the dining room after Ella announced that dinner was served, and Ranger handed me a white pill before we sat down.

"Found something left over from when I cracked that bone in my hand in Hawaii," he said. "It shouldn't be too strong, but should help take the edge off the pain."

I swallowed the pill with a sip from the water glass that was in my spot next to a wine glass. I'd have to skip the wine, unless I wanted to pass out in my food. Dinner turned out to be baked Dijon salmon with green beans and garlic-roasted red potatoes. There was also a garden salad and fresh bread. Conversation during dinner was light-hearted, mostly asking me questions about my life and attempting to find out the exact nature of my relationship with Ranger. The siblings seemed to get along well, but I couldn't help but notice how Aurelia and Ranger didn't seem to mold into the group. Ranger would converse with his siblings on a superficial level, not giving much away. They chatted on about their jobs and families and the vacations they were intending to take before school started up again, but Ranger gave little input or interest. Aurelia was sitting next to him and was telling him about a new job she had learned to do at the place where she worked and he was listening with rapt interest. I watched in silent amazement at how expressive Ranger was when talking to Aurelia, how he asked her questions about what she was doing, showed his genuine interest as she spoke and smiled at her enthusiasm. I was sitting between Ranger and Sofia, who would occasionally start humming a song that I wasn't familiar with. After a few seconds she would catch herself and swear, mumbling about how damn catchy the songs from _Rent_ were.

After dinner, Ella began clearing the table while the group moved towards the living room for the real purpose of the evening. Lola, Javier, Aurelia and Celia took seats on the sofa while Silvia and Sofia took the two arm chairs and Emilio took a seat on the floor. I stood against the wall near the doorway, trying to stay out of Ranger's way. He was standing in front of the television facing his family, looking completely calm and controlled as always. If he was nervous about this conversation with his family, he'd never let it show.

"Hear me out first, then you can ask questions, make suggestions, or completely shoot me down," Ranger began. "We all know that Lia has wanted to live on her own for several years now, but that no one has ever supported the idea because of the concerns that she might not be able to take care of herself or that someone would try to take advantage of her. I believe we owe it to her to let her try this and that we have an ideal set up for doing so here in Trenton. I have an apartment on the fourth floor of this building that is empty. I'm proposing that we give Lia the chance to live on her own in that apartment for at least three months to see how she does. I am here, along with Ella, to check on her to make sure she has what she needs and is taking her medications. She would be in a building with around-the-clock security, so she would be safe. I would also like to give her a job here, letting her work as an assistant to Ella and Louis in helping to take care of the men and the building because she enjoys that kind of work. She can see what areas she excels in and what areas she doesn't like or wants to learn more about. Stephanie will also help Lia by being a friend to her, helping her get acquainted with Trenton and to go places or do things with her that I can't do or have no interest in doing. If at the end of the three-month period Lia has done well with caring for herself, then I propose making this a permanent arrangement. She can continue to live here or she can find an apartment away from my building, but close enough that I can be there quickly in an emergency. She could also look for a different job if she wanted, but would have this as a reference and not just the work center from Newark."

The room has been completely silent while Ranger had been speaking with the exception of the intake of air that I heard Lola, Celia and Sofia take at one point. They all had expressions of trepidation on their faces after his proposal was finished. Silvia and Javier looked interested and supportive of Ranger's ideas while Emilio looked convinced, but like he had some questions. Aurelia looked absolutely thrilled with the idea.

"I love the idea," Silvia said, breaking the tense silence. "I've always thought she should have the chance, but didn't want to say anything because I figured I'd always get shot down. I also couldn't come up with an idea as good as this one."

Lola blinked rapidly and looked at her daughter. "You support this? Your disabled sister living alone in a building full of men? Of course you would, it's your dream come true."

Silvia rolled her eyes, but didn't deny anything.

"Do you really think I would propose this idea if I thought for a second that Lia would be in danger with my men?" Ranger asked. "My men are disciplined and know that to even let the thought of doing something negative toward someone I love enter their mind would be signing their death certificate."

"But you've told me yourself that you are willing to overlook a criminal record if they are a good employee," Lola shot back.

"I don't hire anyone with a sexual crime on their record," Ranger said. "I also don't hire anyone who has ever committed a crime against someone with a disability, the elderly, or a child, which includes not paying their child support. I personally interview every single employee before they are hired to my company because I won't have someone working for me that doesn't represent what I believe. When I'm looking at their background and talking to them I ask myself 'Can I trust this person with my Julie's life? With Lia's life? With Stephanie's life?' because if I can trust them with the lives of the three people who are the most important to me, then I can trust them with my life and the lives of the people who employ us. We have rules, both written and unwritten, that every man learns when he walks into this building. They know that to break those rules means they have to answer to me, and in the seven years I've been in business I've never had to fire anyone. So to suggest that Lia lives here shows just how much trust I put in my men."

I was momentarily taken aback when he talked about how he considered whether he could trust someone with my life when he was interviewing potential employees. The thought made my throat tighten, but I pushed it aside for the moment, wanting to stay focused on the goal.

That answer had seemed to satisfy Emilio, who nodded and spoke up. "Then I'm for it. I trust Carlos's judgment on this one."

"So do I," Javier chimed in, which caused Lola to nearly shriek.

"What? You can't be serious, Javi. She might get hurt trying to cook for herself or slip in the shower. And Carlos is gone so much, he can't check on her every single day," Lola said, looking anguished. "I just want her to be safe. I don't want—"

"YOU DON'T WANT ME TO GROW UP!" Aurelia shouted, standing up and turning to face her mother. "You want me to be a little girl forever! I don't want to be a kid anymore. I'm a grown-up now. I can do this!"

Tears started falling down Aurelia's face and anything she tried to say after that was incomprehensible to me. Her family seemed to be able to follow what she was saying though, as they all listened intently. I noticed Ella slip into the room, catching Ranger's eye. He gave her a small nod and she cleared her throat.

"Aurelia? I could use some help getting these things back down to my apartment. Would you like to take a break and help me?"

Aurelia wiped her eyes and walked over to Ella, who put a supportive arm around her and they walked out of the living room together. Everyone was quiet until they heard the door to the apartment open and close.

"Carlos, you are getting her hopes up," Celia said, giving Ranger a look that once again reminded me of a teacher I'd had. I needed to remember to ask him if she was a teacher.

"I'm trying to give her some hope," Ranger said quietly. "She has lived her whole life being protected and sheltered by our family, but we can't keep doing it forever. She could outlive all of us and then what? Where will she go? What if she needs to be able to take care of herself, but no one ever gave her the chance to try when she had family around to support her? I would never suggest something if I didn't think she could do it. She is very capable. I see it when I visit the house. She's observant and knows how to do so much that you never let her do. She gets cut out of conversations because you think she can't keep up, but she can."

"Carlos, let's be honest: how much do you really know about Aurelia's abilities?" Sofia said, contributing for the first time. "You haven't spent much time with her in the past twenty years with the exception of the two years you were back home while you went to Rutgers and that was fifteen years ago."

"I know more than you think," Ranger replied. "Aurelia and I have kept in close contact ever since I left the Army. Before she had a cell phone, she would call me every other day to talk and tell me about what she had been doing. Since she's gotten a cell phone, she sends me text messages every day and we talk on the phone at least once a week. When she told me she had made herself a Facebook profile, I told her I was concerned that people may try to take advantage of her, so she gave me access to her account and I check it almost every day to see what she has been doing and to check on who is talking to her. I get to see pictures of her friends and what she writes about her day. I know the name of the man she liked and that his death has weighed heavier on her than any of you probably realize. I also make an effort to have lunch with her a few times a year at her job. She gets to show me what she's working on and introduces me to her friends. So I know quite a bit about her and her abilities. I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't."

The entire group, myself included, looked flabbergasted. I hadn't known Ranger was capable of that much contact with anyone in his personal life, including me.

"Why are you fighting so hard for this?" Lola asked quietly. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because it's important to her. Because I've always fought for her," Ranger said, and there was something about his demeanor that seemed off. I couldn't quite tell what it was, but didn't have much opportunity to contemplate it before Ranger seemed to morph into a different person. He blew out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair as he started pacing the room.

"Do you remember how often I was getting in fights when I was young?" he asked his family. "Starting in kindergarten and lasting until I went to juvie?"

Everyone nodded. "You always said the other kids teased you about being small for your age," Celia said. "But by the time you were ten or eleven, you had caught up to them."

"That was the story I used because, even when I was six years old, I had wanted to protect Lia," Ranger replied. "I used to get beat up all of the time because I was constantly confronting the kids that made fun of her while we walked home from school. They would laugh and point at her, calling her names and making fun of her speech impediment. When we were younger and Silvia used to walk with us, she would just keep talking to Lia and distract her from those kids while I would go talk to them. But then as Silvia got older and more popular and stopped walking home with us, there wasn't anyone to distract her from them. I was the one who would take the heat. I would tell her that they were making fun of me for being small and I would tell her to go on home without me because I didn't want her to see me getting in their faces or them beating the shit out of me. She was happy with who she was and I didn't want that ruined by a bunch of idiots. By the time we were teenagers and were riding home with the older kids in their car, I had alienated anyone in my age group because of defending Lia and getting into fights. I was desperate to fit in with someone, so I turned to the older kids, the gangbangers, and ended up in trouble. But I didn't regret any of it because I'd protected her. And then you didn't let her come to see me while I was in juvie, which hurt me more than I can tell you. Of everyone in the family, she was the person I was closest to. And when it came time for me to leave for Miami, I let her hate me instead of trying to fix things because I knew it was better that she was mad at the person who was away in Miami than the people she had to live with day after day. And even though I've fought for her almost my whole life, I've also been the one to hurt her with some of my actions. We've gotten past that, but I feel I owe it to her to help her with this. And if it means fighting you all for her, then so be it."

I surreptitiously wiped the tears that had welled up in my eyes and fallen down my cheeks and could see that the rest of the family was doing the same thing. No one else had seemed to realize the lengths Ranger had gone to for his sister during his life. And by the looks on the siblings' faces, they all seemed to be realizing that he knew their sister better than they did, even though they likely spent far more time in her presence.

Lola had been watching Ranger with a mixture of amazement and love as he'd spoken about his childhood. A moment or two after he finished speaking, she stood up and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him on the head. She whispered something in his ear that I couldn't make out and he responded before they broke apart. Javier stood up and walked over to his wife, grabbing one of her hands and looking at her with such adoration that I wanted to cry again.

"Are you onboard with the idea?" Javier asked. Lola nodded.

"Yes, I am. I'm terrified, of course, but Carlos is right. She needs this chance," Lola said, squeezing his hand.

The family milled around for a few minutes while Ranger sent a message to Ella to have Aurelia come back to the apartment. He caught my eye and winked at me, making me laugh. It always seemed so out of character for him to wink. When Aurelia and Ella came back into the room, I could see that Aurelia looked nervous. She was expecting that her family would tell her she couldn't try living on her own.

"Lia, _mija,_ we've talked about it and we want you to try living here on your own," Lola told her. "We think Carlos's plan is a good one."

There was a full thirty seconds of stunned silence on Aurelia's end while she processed what her mother was telling her. Once reality hit her, Aurelia started shrieking with joy and jumping up and down. She threw her arms around her mother and repeatedly thanked her. Even though I had no doubt that her family would still worry about her, in that moment, they were all smiling at her joy. I saw Ella struggling to keep herself together as she watched the scene and I started heading towards the doorway, wanting to give the family a moment alone. Ella followed me into the kitchen, where I saw a cheesecake with strawberry topping sitting on the island.

"Bless you, Ella," I said as she began cutting into it. I helped by holding out plates for her. "I'll eat Ranger's if he doesn't want it."

"Which is almost a guarantee," Ella replied with a laugh.

The Manosos filed into the kitchen and began taking slices of cheesecake and forks from the counter and made their way to the dining room. Ella gave Ranger a look of inquiry as to whether he wanted a slice. He responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Have we met?"

Ella nodded and added a second slice of cheesecake onto my plate. I beamed at both of them as I made my way to the dining room. We all sat in the same spots we'd been in at dinner and talk was lively as everyone ate their dessert.

"Where's your dessert, Carlos?" Sofia asked. Ranger pointed to my plate, where I was almost finished devouring one slice.

"He never eats dessert, so I eat his share," I informed her. "Dessert is the base of my food pyramid."

Emilio laughed. "What's on the rest of the pyramid?"

"The next level up is peanut butter and olives sandwiches, followed by donuts, Tastykakes, pot roast, and potatoes for my vegetable make up that little section at the top. I'm not a total pig."

"Except for the fact that her potatoes only come in the form of French fries and chips," Ranger added, squeezing my knee under the table. I responded by kicking him in the shin.

"She's a keeper," Sofia said. "You have to appreciate a woman who can eat like a frat boy and be completely unashamed about it."

The family began leaving Ranger's apartment around ten-thirty, as they had at least an hour drive back to Newark. Plans had been made to bring Aurelia and her belongings down to Trenton on Sunday of the next weekend. It gave her time to get packed, buy anything else she might need, and to tell her job that she was quitting. Aurelia had hugged Ranger tightly as she left, telling him that she loved him and that she couldn't wait to tell her friends. I lingered in the foyer with him as we bid them goodbye. Each member of the Manoso family hugged me tightly, told me they were happy to have finally met me and that they expected to see more of me in the future.

I waited until Ranger had closed the door to his apartment before I hurried over to him. I surprised him by pushing him up against the wall in the foyer and kissing him deeply. He took a second to respond, but pulled me tightly against his body as the kiss continued. We broke apart after a minute, both breathless.

"That was some kiss, babe."

"That was because you are an amazing person. You blew me away when you were talking about all you have done with and for Aurelia in your life. It's a side of you that I haven't really seen before, and I have to admit that it's incredibly sexy."

"I have sexier sides I can show you," he replied, pressing his erection into my belly. I squirmed at the thought of going to bed with him. It had only been a few days, but since my relationship with Morelli had ended I had seemed to crave Ranger even more than usual. I'd been proud of myself for resisting him the night before, when he'd returned to my apartment after going to the latest crime scene. The orgasm he'd given me in the car had been terrific and that had just been the magic he worked with his fingers. I knew his tongue worked an even better magic, along with his best part, but I'd managed to clear my head before he returned and had spent the night clothed and cuddled into him.

"I'll have to pass on that offer for now," I told him, kissing him lightly on the lips. "I'm trying to stay strong."

"Your strength in this particular area is killing me, babe. More so now than ever."

I smiled at him, bid him good night, and left the apartment. He too was eager for what would transpire between us once I'd had some time to clear out the Morelli feelings in my heart and head. As I stepped into the elevator, I hoped that Morelli could be pushed out of my heart quickly so that Ranger could have all of it.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: This chapter picks up after the events of the bridge scene in Takedown Twenty. I didn't feel it necessary to rewrite it._

Fourteen hours ago, I'd been in Ranger's apartment. I'd been safe, wrapped in his arms and talking myself out of sleeping with him. I was wrapped in Ranger's arms once again, except this time we were in the middle of the Delaware River. My arms were handcuffed behind my back and I was shaking from the adrenaline rush that came with being dropped off of a bridge. As he pulled me towards the shore, I ran through my mental calendar, alarmed to find that I had just faced my second near-death experience in a week. _Again._

My teeth were chattering as Ranger pulled me upright on the shore and Tank unlocked the handcuffs. They continued to chatter as I was loaded into one of the Rangeman SUVs with Tank, who had been tasked with taking me home and staying in my lot until Ranger got there later. I declined Tank's offer to stay in the apartment with me and headed straight to the shower, where I immediately sat down in the tub and burst into tears. In truth, I was —in Lula's words— a hot mess, and it was weighing on my mind and my heart. The last week had been bad enough with the scandal surrounding Morelli and people hating me for pursuing Uncle Sunny, but now I had him actively trying to get rid of me. It seemed that no matter what I did I couldn't manage to stay out of trouble while just trying to do my job. I always seemed to dive head-first into a shit pile from which Ranger ultimately had to rescue me. Morelli had constantly wanted me to get a new job, along with my mother, but I had always done what I'd wanted. I'd stayed with the job because…why? Why had I always stayed with bond enforcement? Because it had given me the freedom to work when I wanted, wearing what I wanted and doing the job (mostly) how I wanted. It had also kept me close to Ranger, which I suspected was one of the biggest reasons why I'd continued in the job in spite of all the bad. I had bogged them all down with worry, stress, and, in the cases of Morelli and Ranger, physical danger. It hadn't been fair to any of them, and this was just one more example.

The water from the shower eventually went ice cold, not difficult given my building's crappy hot water heaters, but I continued to let the water pummel me as I cried. Why was Ranger even bothering with me? What was he really going to get out of a relationship with me besides sex? He wasted his money protecting me and giving me loaner cars and he put his life on the line saving my ass. Maybe I should cut him loose, I thought as I began shivering once more.

At some point in time, I managed to get out of the shower, got dressed and fell into bed. By the time I opened my eyes again, I could see twilight streaming into my bedroom and felt a warm body wrapped around mine. I turned my head ever-so-slightly to look at Ranger's face and saw that he had fallen asleep. I stared down at our joined hands and wondered if I'd been right in my line of thinking during my shower or if I'd simply been in shock. I figured it was probably best to talk to Ranger about everything, and if he was tired of my messes, I would be sure to let him go if he wanted out.

"How are you feeling?" he eventually asked me, his voice gritty with sleep.

"Better than earlier, but we need to talk."

"About?"

I rolled over so that Ranger and I were nearly nose-to-nose. His eyes were open now and quietly assessing my mood and body language. It felt a little like being x-rayed by the machines at the airport.

"I'm sorry that you're constantly getting pulled into my crap—," I began, but was halted by a finger on my lips.

"Do not apologize for getting thrown off of a bridge," he said simply.

"It's not just the bridge, it's everything. I'm always getting into something and you're always dragging me back out of the fire. You lose money on me, your men have gotten hurt protecting me, and you've put your life on the line multiple times to save me. You deserve better."

"Are you saying you don't want a relationship with me any longer?" Ranger asked, and I could hear a cool tone to his voice. He wasn't happy with this conversation.

"I do want one, but I don't want you to feel obligated to be with me if you don't want to be. I know I put a lot of stress on everyone with my job and everything that it involves. Maybe I just need a new job, like Morelli and my mother have constantly been saying to me over the years," I acknowledged, wondering why it took me getting thrown off a bridge to have this particular _aha_ moment.

"What would you do? You've gone that route before and it didn't work out."

I shrugged. "That's part of the problem—I don't know. I don't think I'm very good at anything, including this job."

"You're good at a lot of things," Ranger replied as he began to rub small circles on my back. "You're a good judge of character. You can relate to people and get them to open up to you. You're smart, resilient, and kind."

"Those traits could get me a job as a golden retriever," I told him. "They don't mean much in the job market."

"They aren't skills to discount, especially if you're still intending to be in a relationship with me," he replied. "I can get a picture of people's character, but my social skills are limited when it comes to getting information out of someone in a manner that doesn't involve intimidation or sexual encounters. If you're really interested in a job, you could work for me. My manager of human resources has been asking for an assistant for a while now, and I think you could be good at that. I also know there's a position open in sales, if that would be more fitting for you."

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. "Those are sort of serious positions. I thought you were going to say I could run background checks like I've done in the past."

"That's fine for a short-term job, but it would be a waste of your skills in the long run," he informed me. "But think about it. In the meantime, do you want me to help you go after Uncle Sunny? After everything he's put you through at this point, you deserve the satisfaction of putting him back in jail and getting your fee."

I sighed heavily. "Yes, I do want the money and to make sure he's back in jail. Vinnie's already in the red and I don't want Lula and Connie to be out of jobs because I gave up, so I would appreciate the help."

Ranger placed a kiss on my forehead. "Consider it done. And to answer your earlier question, I don't want out of this. Watching you fall from the bridge only reinforced my desire to have a relationship with you."

We stayed in bed for a little while longer talking about how the four idiots who had tried to kill me had managed to get released on bail within a couple of hours of being arrested. Ranger suspected the judge had been bribed and I had to agree with him. Uncle Sunny had the resources to do just that and it was almost certain that he'd bribed the judge who had granted bail in his murder case. We had just turned the conversation around to dinner and the idea of me staying with him until Sunny was behind bars when there was a knock on my apartment door. Ranger immediately reached for his gun and headed towards the foyer. I walked a few paces behind him, my stomach churning with nerves. Had the goons come back to my apartment to finish the job they'd started? Ranger silently approached the door and looked through the peephole.

"It's a woman with a baby," he said, moving his gun out of sight before he opened the door. I moved around him to look out into the hallway.

The woman was an attractive blonde who looked to be in her mid-twenties. She was a few inches shorter than me and rounder. She had a tiny baby with dark hair hanging from one arm in a carrier and a purse and diaper bag hanging from the other.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I'm looking for Joe Morelli. Is he here?"

"No, he isn't," I replied. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"When will he be back?" she asked impatiently, shifting the weight of the carrier in her arm.

"Joe doesn't live here. He has his own house."

"Well then I need his address or a phone number."

The woman didn't seem dangerous, but I also wasn't going to give out a cop's personal information without good reason. .

"I'm going to need to know more about why you need to talk to Joe before I feel comfortable with giving you that information," I told her. "Why don't you come inside?"

She followed me into the living room and put the baby's carrier on the sofa and her bags on the floor before taking a seat. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a copper-colored cotton shirt that showed off a small belly left over from her pregnancy. The sleeping baby was wearing a little yellow dress with a matching headband.

"So why don't you tell me who you are and why you need to talk to Joe?" I asked, taking a seat in the club chair next to the sofa. Ranger perched on the arm at the other send of the sofa and silently observed. His gaze kept resting on the baby and I could tell by his body language that he wasn't happy.

"I'm Sheila, and I'm looking for Joe because I want him to be part of his daughter's life."

The room was silent for everyone but me. My heart was beating so loudly in my ears that I thought my eardrums might burst.

"That—that is Joe's daughter?" I eventually asked, pointing to the baby. Sheila nodded.

"Yes, she is. I kept trying to get in touch with him to tell him I was pregnant, but the phone number he gave me isn't in service anymore. Then I found out that he'd been lying to me while we'd been together. I didn't know he was an undercover police officer. He had used the name Joe Mastriani when I'd met him. He had been working with the Feds to bring in my boss on a bunch of stuff. I saw him with the FBI agents when they hauled my boss away, but before I could get over to talk to him, he'd vanished. I've been telling a cousin of mine about what happened and she finally figured out his real name. She told me I should come to you to find him."

"Who is your cousin?"

"Her name is Jeanne Ellen Burrows. She does private investigations and bounty hunting. I hadn't seen Jeanne Ellen in quite a while, but she came up to the hospital with her mother when I gave birth three weeks ago and that's when I started explaining about Joe. She said she had a feeling she knew who he was, but wanted to do some checking first. She told me about a week later who he was, but I had to wait until I was feeling a little better and cleared to drive to come find him. I didn't want to drag my family into it."

If Ranger were a more expressive man, this would have been the point where he put his hand through a wall or kicked over a chair. But since he wasn't, I could only gauge his mood by the stillness of his body and the almost waves of fury that seemed to be emanating from him. I knew I should be angry or in tears, but my feelings seemed to be beyond either emotion at that point. I had almost looped around to calm again, which I knew couldn't be a good thing. It made me question my sanity, and I vaguely wondered if too much shock in one day could make you lose your mind. I struggled again to find words to say, not really able to believe what I was hearing. Morelli had told me he'd never been with anyone else, not even when we were on a break. He had been adamant and had made me feel like shit about what I had done. But here was a woman hunting him down claiming that he fathered her child. I didn't know who was telling the truth in that moment, and I wasn't quite sure of who I hoped was the liar.

"When were you and Joe involved with each other?" I managed to ask, wondering if the math I was doing in my head was correct.

"We met in the middle of August and the last time I saw him was September fourteenth, when they arrested my boss. I'd just spent the night with him the night before that, which is apparently when I got pregnant," Sheila said. I could see there were tears forming in her eyes. "I really liked him. It hurt when I couldn't get ahold of him, then learned that he wasn't who he'd said he was. Jeanne Ellen didn't say how you know Joe."

So Morelli had been sleeping with her and got her pregnant only two days before he'd flown out to Hawaii to "surprise" me and subsequently got into a fight with Ranger. The good news just kept piling up.

"Until a week ago, he had been my boyfriend. But we broke up," I replied.

I felt bad for Sheila, who sat in shock for a good thirty seconds before she burst into tears. Her cries woke up the baby, who also started crying. I excused myself for a moment and took my phone into my bedroom, where I dialed Morelli's number. He answered on the second ring.

"What?"

"You need to get over to my apartment right now. There's a—situation," I told him. "Be here in fifteen minutes or less." I hung up before he could respond.

I went back to the living room to find Ranger handing Sheila a glass of water. She thanked him and took a drink while holding the baby in one arm.

"I called Joe. He's on his way over, but he doesn't know why," I told them.

"I'm tempted to kill the son of a bitch," Sheila replied. "But I really want Callie to have him in her life. I never really knew my dad. He walked out on us when I was three and I've only seen him two other times since."

I couldn't see Morelli not taking responsibility for his child, but I also hadn't been able to imagine he'd have been able to lie so easily to me about having been unfaithful. So maybe I didn't know Joe Morelli the way I thought I did.

"I hope he's cooperative," she continued. "I don't really have the money to hire a lawyer."

We were quiet while Sheila soothed the baby until Morelli walked into the apartment ten minutes later. His eyes initially fell on Ranger and me, causing him to scowl. He'd been just about to open his mouth when he caught sight of Sheila sitting on the couch with the baby. I could see his mouth tighten with anticipation.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice cracking with strain.

"I've been trying to get ahold of you since September to tell you that I was pregnant with your child," Sheila said hotly as she put the baby back into her seat. "I had to find out you were just a cop trying to get information out of me about my boss by getting in my pants. I had no idea who you really were until my cousin did some investigating and figured it out, though I'm going to be having a little talk with her too, since she sent me to find you at your ex-girlfriend's place."

I'd never seen Morelli looked so stunned by something before. His eyes rested on the baby for a few seconds before meeting my gaze. I could see a mixture of feelings in his expression—shock, fear, and guilt.

"Sheila, I—," Morelli began, running a hand nervously through his hair. "I'm sorry. I should have told you who I really was. I was anxious to get the job over with and get out of town to go see Stephanie, so I didn't take the time."

"You were anxious to get out to Hawaii, where you got into a fight with Ranger because you found us in a villa together," I snapped. "You came out there and lost your shit because Ranger and I were _pretending_ to be a married couple in an effort to get close to an FTA when you had just come off of a job yourself where you had been doing the same thing. Then you have the balls to make me feel guilty about it and said nothing about what you had been doing!"

I felt the tears running down my cheeks as I spoke. It hurt —it all hurt so much. Hadn't enough shit happened already? Orin Carr, the break-up, the sex tape, and now finding out that Morelli was a lying sack of shit who had fathered a child while undercover was just too much to handle. I sat back down in my chair and began sobbing again, which started a chain reaction of sending Sheila into tears once more, followed by the baby.

I felt Ranger pull me up by an arm and guide me to my bedroom, where he pushed me onto my bed before leaving the room again. I heard him saying something, but couldn't distinguish the words over the sounds of my own crying along with that of baby Callie's. He reappeared seconds later holding the baby and shut the door behind him. Callie had stopped crying once Ranger had picked her up, and she seemed to be staring at him with the amazement of having seen something exotic for the first time. Ranger grabbed a tissue from my night stand and handed it to me before sitting down on the bed next to me. I wiped my tears and blew my nose in an effort to pull myself together.

"Is this the fucking Twilight Zone?" I asked Ranger. "I mean, look at all of the crap that's happened in the last week alone. It isn't normal, even for me. And I'd had a feeling that Morelli had been lying to me about not having been with anyone else. I want to kick his ass. Or better yet, let you do it. You'd do it a lot better than me."

Ranger had Callie lying in his lap, supporting her back and head with one of his arms. She was now cooing and smiling up at him, drooling while she kicked her legs and waved her arms excitedly. Ranger had that effect on all women from birth to death.

"While I would like to kick his ass for how he treated you, I can understand why he wouldn't have mentioned it or even have considered it as being unfaithful to you," he replied, looking down at the baby in his lap. I opened my mouth angrily, but he spoke again before I could.

"And no, I wouldn't have done the same thing if I'd been in that position while in a relationship with you. I'm just saying that I can understand it to an extent."

"She looks like Morelli," I commented after a minute. "In the eyes and the mouth. And the dark hair."

I sat quietly while I watched Ranger interact with Callie. It seemed surreal to see this man, who could be so dangerous and deadly, interact so gently with a tiny baby. She wrapped her hand around one of his fingers and continued to smile up at him. He kept talking to her in Spanish, which made her coo even more.

"You're really good with her," I commented. "But then again, you're good with all women."

"I like kids," he replied with a shrug. "They're real. They can see through the bullshit and have an honesty and innocence that you lose as you get older."

I had to agree with that. Children and animals were almost always the best judges of character. I'd seen Ranger around Bob before, and now I'd seen him around a child. Both had loved him, which I knew was a good indicator of his true nature, no matter what the badass exterior may try to say otherwise. I could hear Morelli and Sheila talking in the living room and then the sound of footsteps headed towards my bedroom door. It opened a second later to reveal Morelli.

"We're getting ready to leave," he informed us. "But I wanted to talk to Stephanie first."

Ranger stood up and left the room with the baby while Morelli walked further into the room. I could Ranger and Sheila talking quietly and Callie's renewed crying told me that she wasn't happy about leaving Ranger's arms. But then again, no woman was.

"I don't know what to say, except I'm sorry," Morelli said. "I wasn't considering what I'd done for my job as part of my relationship with you, but I probably should have."

"'Probably should have'?" I retorted. "You definitely should have. Even if you hadn't told me about it, you shouldn't have acted like you'd never been with anyone else. And to make matters worse, you fathered a child with her."

"Yeah, wasn't expecting that," he muttered. "But I have to step up and take responsibility for her. Sheila lives over in Princeton, but I'm going to help her get settled over here so I can help out with the baby."

"Are you going to do a paternity test to be sure?"

Morelli shook his head. "No, I know she's mine. Sheila's an honest woman. I had done plenty of checking up on her before and during the time that I was working undercover. I knew her routine and that she hadn't been involved with anyone for over a year. The timing is right and she looks too much like me to not be mine. I'll just have to establish legal paternity and go from there. Jesus Christ, I don't know anything about raising a child."

Unable to find more to say, I stood up and headed towards the living room, Morelli in my wake. Sheila was looking calmer as she waited patiently by the door.

"Thank you, Stephanie," she said. "And I'm sorry that Jeanne Ellen sent me here. I'll be having words with her about that. She could have sent me directly to Joe."

I waved away here apology. "It's not your fault that Joe's a liar and Jeanne Ellen's a manipulative bitch. I prefer having found out this way than through the grapevine. Good luck with everything."

Morelli, not excited about my final dig at him, grunted as he opened the door for Sheila and they disappeared into the hallway. I sagged against Ranger once they left and he put his arms around me.

"Today sucked."

"We've had better days. Are you still open to staying with me until Sunny's behind bars again?"

I agreed and within ten minutes, we'd packed up Rex and the essentials and headed down to our respective cars. The sun had set by the time we arrived at Ranger's apartment and my stomach growled with hunger. The smell of dinner met us as we opened the door and I thanked God for the wonder that was Ella.

"I still can't believe Morelli has a baby," I said halfway through the meal. "I wonder how much involvement he's going to have with her. I don't know that I can see him having the baby half of the time. He works too much."

"I was talking to Sheila while you were talking to Morelli. She told me that they'd discussed it briefly, but the basic plan was for her to get moved to Trenton and then he would take the baby for a few hours at a time a couple of days a week for now and then as she gets older, they'd look at increasing the time. But he'll have to pay child support since she will have primary custody."

"At least he doesn't have a mortgage to worry about. Trenton cops don't make a lot of money and child support can be high."

"There are several factors involved," Ranger replied. "It depends on the income of both parents, the discrepancy between the two, childcare and medical costs. And it fluctuates as incomes change, if the parties report them."

"Do you have to pay a lot in child support for Julie?"

"I haven't been legally required to pay child support since Ron adopted her when she was three, but I've insisted on continuing to pay it until Julie graduates from high school. I've always continued to pay what I would be legally required to pay if I still maintained my rights. My accountant knows how to calculate the amount and adjusts it annually as needed. I think I pay about nine thousand a month right now."

I choked on the sip of wine I'd just taken and spent thirty seconds coughing the fluid out of my lungs. "Nine thousand dollars? A month?"

"I make a lot more money than Ron does. Plus, they manage all expenses like medical costs, extracurriculars and so forth. They put the money to good use though. Julie goes to a private school that costs four thousand a month. I know they put part in a college fund for her, part goes into a savings account, she takes dance and violin lessons, and the rest is used on day-to-day needs."

The fact that Ranger was so nonchalant over the fact that he paid more than one hundred thousand dollars a year in child support blew my mind. It must be nice to have that kind of money.

"I think I need a new daddy."

"That's what we're working towards, isn't it?" he asked with a smirk.

I snorted with laughter. "I guess so. I can't believe you pay that much. Julie's really lucky to have you as her father. Most men would have cut and run. They'd have been grateful to not have to pay support any longer."

"I didn't sign over my rights because I didn't want the responsibility of my child. I did it because I wanted her to have a more stable family life than she would have had with me. But I'll admit that my support serves a dual purpose. I pay because I believe parents should always be financially responsible for the children they create. The only reason Julie exists is because I seduced a naive eighteen-year-old and had been too cocky to bother with a condom. The support has also reassured me that Rachel and Ron wouldn't want to completely cut me out of Julie's life. Not that I believe they would go back on their word—we have a good relationship—but in the early days it helped me feel a little more secure about keeping a small amount of access to her."

I wasn't sure if it was the wine, hearing Ranger talk about his responsibilities as a father, or the culmination of everything that had happened that day, but the next thing I knew I was throwing myself into Ranger's arms and kissing him like my life depended on it. He had been caught off guard, but didn't take long to regain his bearings. It was similar to the surprise kiss I'd given him the night before, only this time I wasn't stopping at a kiss. I pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it behind me. We struggled to remove each other's clothing as we made our way towards his bedroom. By the time we fell into bed, we were both naked and ready for action. He had been just about to enter me when he heaved a small sigh and opened his nightstand, pulling out three condoms. He left two on the table, immediately put the other one on, and got back to business. The sex was fast and desperate; the sex of two people who had experienced an emotionally-charged day and couldn't possibly get enough of each other.

"Is there a reason why you're not on the Pill?" Ranger asked a few minutes after he'd rolled off of me.

"I used to be, but I stopped about three years ago during one of my longer off-phases with Morelli. I figured I wasn't having sex, so why spend the money when I couldn't really afford it. I've never gotten back on it because my income isn't consistently high enough to maintain it. I'm usually lucky to make rent and keep my utilities from being turned off. Morelli was always willing to provide the condoms."

"If you want to go back on it, I'll pay for it. Condoms aren't my favorite form of birth control," he replied. "Especially in the long-term. Your chances of a failure increase with time, plus they put a barrier between us. I like to be able to feel you."

That was a pretty awesome deal, I thought. Why the hell hadn't Morelli ever offered to do that?

"That would be great. I feel the same away about condoms, though they do make sex a little less messy."

"I'll provide you with a shower every time," Ranger said, running a finger up my inner thigh. "And I'll even help wash."

"No doubt."

 _A/N: Just as an FYI, I used the Florida Child Support calculator online to help determine Ranger's child support amount, using reasonable amounts for his and Ron's respective incomes given their occupations._


	8. Chapter 8

My relationship with the Burg could be described as love/hate. I love it because it's familiar to me, with people and places I've known all my life. It's comforting, like pot roast and pineapple upside-down cake. But then there are times when I hate it, like when my love life is the focus of the gossip. The hate side of my relationship with the Burg had grown stronger the longer I worked in bond enforcement. It had been especially strong in the past week and a half since breaking up with Morelli, but like any love/hate relationship, we'd circled back around to love again.

It had taken about forty-eight hours, but the news of Morelli having had a child with someone else while in a relationship with me had gone through the Burg like wildfire. Those who had been on his side, calling me a slut, were suddenly quiet. They didn't talk badly about him, but they no longer talked badly about me. Morelli's mother had been overheard talking about the shock of learning she had a new granddaughter, but raved about the little girl as though she'd known about her all along.

I'd spent the last few days staying with Ranger while we'd worked on tracking down Sunny, a difficult task given how tight-knit his family was and how much property he owned. We'd gone in a couple of times, only to have him slip out a side exit. There had even been one time when he'd paid someone who looked like him to go somewhere just to throw us off. I could tell Ranger was annoyed with the fact that one little old man was continuously giving him the slip. Lola had called Ranger on Monday evening to ask if Aurelia could come down to Trenton sooner than planned. Aurelia had not only been obsessing about coming down to get settled in her new apartment, but had made a valid point to her parents that if they tried to move her on Sunday, they would be hitting traffic from people headed home after Fourth of July travel. Ranger had agreed that Aurelia could come down at any time, so the family made plans to head down on Thursday morning, which would give them enough time to get back home before people started taking off of work early to head to the shore for the holiday weekend.

I stopped by my parents' house on Wednesday afternoon to check in and to let them know I was still alive. My mother had been a basket case when she'd found out that I'd been thrown off of a bridge, but had felt slightly better once I had told her that I was staying at Rangeman until everything was under control. Upon weighing the options, I guess my mother had figured that the possibility of my bearing Ranger's illegitimate child was better than my body being dragged out of the Delaware River. Grandma Mazur was clearing the table from lunch and my mother was in the process of chopping vegetables that were likely for dinner.

"How's it going?" Grandma asked as I helped her carry dishes to kitchen.

"Annoying," I said. "We can't get a line on Sunny. He owns too many different properties and has too many people protecting him. Even with Ranger's help it's been nearly impossible to track him down."

"Maybe you should give up on him," Grandma suggested. "He apparently doesn't want to go back to jail, and I don't want you to get thrown off a bridge again."

"I do not want that man discussed in my house again," my mother said, making the sign of the cross. "Are you planning to go to Mary Steinberg's viewing tonight?"

"Nope, I've got a hot date at six," Grandma replied. "I'll just go to the funeral tomorrow."

"Who is your date?" I asked. My spidey-sense had started to tingle once Grandma mentioned her date. It made me think of all the women who had died without an answer as to who had killed them.

"Just a guy from the Senior Center. He's a real catch. Loaded, charming, and I heard he can still get it up without popping a pill."

My mother made a choking sound and nearly chopped off the end of a finger. "Mother, please be careful. There is someone out there murdering older women."

"This guy wouldn't kill me. He's a real gentleman. I've heard he always makes sure you come first."

My mother let out a shriek, which turned out to be from the deep slice she'd put in her finger with the knife. My father, who had been sleeping in the chair, jumped up at the sound and rushed into the kitchen. After a couple of minutes of cold water and pressure, the decision was made that my mother probably needed stitches. I followed my parents out of the house, but turned to talk to Grandma Mazur before I got in my car.

"Be careful, Grandma."

"Yes, _Helen_ ," she said with a wink before shutting the front door.

Ranger and I had just finished eating our dinner that evening when he got a call on his cell phone. He listened for a minute, instructed the person on the phone to keep an eye on all of the exits and that he'd be there in ten minutes.

"Got a hit on Sunny," he told me. "Let's go."

We headed down to Sixteenth Street and pulled up in front of a building that Sunny owned. There was a wine shop on the ground floor and there were three more floors above it. There were lights on in a window on the second floor.

"Let's check that apartment first," Ranger said, indicating the lit window. "My guy said that light went on a few minutes after Sunny entered the building."

We headed up the stairs and found two doors. Only one would feasibly have windows facing the street, so we headed towards that door and listened for a minute. We could hear Frank Sinatra singing about having someone under his skin.

"My man said he walked in with a woman," Ranger whispered. "Probably had a date."

"Hope they had fun up until now," I said. "Maybe we can get her a bottle of wine from downstairs to make up for it."

Ranger pulled out his lock-picking tools and unlocked the door while I held my gun in place, ready to use if necessary. Ranger had his gun ready as he opened the door and walked into the room. I followed close behind him and heard a small shriek of surprise. The room was something out of a bad porno with a red velvet couch, sheepskin rug, a disco ball, stripper pole, and a king-sized bed. The disco ball was in motion, making me slightly dizzy. Sunny had been going to town on the woman in the bed, but upon hearing her shriek he had turned to look at us. In that moment, several things happened. I heard Sunny make a strangled noise, I heard Ranger groan slightly, and I sucked in some air when I realized that the naked woman under Sunny was my Grandma Mazur. She looked just as surprised to us as we were to see her, but she disappeared from view again as Sunny collapsed on top of her and didn't move. Frank Sinatra's song ended and the room was silent for a good thirty seconds with the exception of the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room.

"I think he's dead," Grandma finally said, her voice slightly muffled. "He's not moving and I can't feel a pulse, not to mention he's still, you know..."

"He has a bad heart," I said, grimacing at the thoughts trying to invade my brain. "I'm guessing that the shock of us showing up coupled with the strain of other _activities_ was too much for him."

"Call 911," Ranger said. "Let's at least get him off of your grandmother before the police get here."

While I called 911, Ranger got started on pulling Sunny off of Grandma, trying to keep his eyes on anything but my grandmother's slack-skinned naked body. I unfortunately got a full-on view of the entire ordeal and was exposed to the horrifying knowledge that Sunny practiced safe sex and my grandmother apparently liked Brazilian waxes. I quickly scooped up Grandma's clothes and handed them to her before she headed into bathroom to get dressed. Ranger threw the bedspread over Sunny's lower half and closed his eyes.

"I'm speechless," he said. "I'm fucking speechless."

"I'm going to need therapy," I replied. "Years and years of therapy."

Ranger opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when something on his side of the bed caught his attention. "Shit."

"What?"

"There's a brand new box of Venetian blind cords over here. Open."

"And?"

"The dumpster killed strangled the women with Venetian blind cords."

My heart skipped several beats in my chest. "Are you saying that Sunny was the dumpster killer?"

"I think so," he replied. "And I think your grandmother was the next intended victim."

"Oh my God," I said, suddenly feeling weak. I stumbled over to a chair near the bed and leaned over, putting my head between my knees. "Oh my God."

"Well, this is a bummer," Grandma said as she came out of the bathroom fully dressed. "He was pretty good too."

I sat up and turned to look at Grandma. "Seriously?! You knew I was looking for him, but you went out on a date and got into bed with him anyway?"

"I was hoping I could talk him into leaving you alone," Grandma answered. "I thought maybe if I put on my best moves, he'd be feeling pretty forgiving."

I was speechless, unable to form any coherent words. Thankfully, Ranger had found his voice.

"I don't think that would have worked," he told her. "We have reason to believe he was intending to kill you this evening. There's an open box of Venetian blind cords over here, which is what the dumpster killer used to kill all of the women."

"Really? That wasn't on the news. I can't imagine he would have been able to do it though. I'm stronger than I look."

Further conversation was cut off by the sounds of police sirens. I opened the door and stood aside while police and paramedics came into the room. Ranger, Grandma and I were all interviewed separately by the police and were released to leave. One of the police officers gave me a body receipt for Sunny, telling me it would be good enough to get the bond returned and get my fee. He told me that they weren't supposed to do that, but after what I had just seen that I deserved a break. We took Grandma with us and dropped her off at home. I declined going inside, telling her that she was on her own to explain to my mother about what had happened with Sunny. Ranger and I didn't speak again until we were back inside his apartment. I immediately headed for the kitchen and pulled a bottle of wine out of cooler. After pouring myself a glass and chugging most of it, I poured a second one and left the bottle out for Ranger.

"I can't believe Sunny turned out to be the dumpster killer," I said. "What are the chances of that?"

"They're small," Ranger admitted, pouring himself a glass of wine. "But at least we got to him before he hurt your grandmother. He won't be able to hurt anyone else, and the families of the victims will have an answer."

We drank our wine in silence while we stood in the kitchen. Had Sunny targeted Grandma because of me? Was it because I was after him for being FTA or did he know I was looking into the dumpster murders and think I might be onto him? Ranger's phone rang and he answered it, leaving the room to take the call. I drained my glass and went to pour myself a third glass of wine, but found the bottle empty. Probably a sign that I didn't need another one anyway. I headed towards the living room, where Ranger was wrapping up his phone call.

"That was Shiller," he told me. "Apparently Moe and Shorty had shown up on scene and were questioned about Sunny. Turns out he's been killing elderly women around a three-state area for kicks over the past ten years."

"Did they know if he targeted Grandma because of me?"

"He'd told his men he would teach you a lesson by killing your grandmother."

A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach and sent me running to the bathroom. I made it just in time to empty my stomach of the wine and the lamb stew we'd had at dinner. I felt Ranger pull my hair back from my face as I continued to heave. Once my stomach was aching and there was nothing left to come out of me, I closed the lid on the toilet and flushed it, but continued to sit on the floor and leaned against the glass shower door. Ranger handed me a wet wash cloth and a glass of water. I wiped my face and took a drink. I could feel cold sweat on my arms and the back of my neck and I was shaking slightly. Ranger sat down on the floor next to me and pulled me close to him.

"I can't believe my grandmother was almost killed because of me."

"Babe, it wasn't because of you. It was because Sunny was a sociopath."

"But he targeted her because of me."

"He may have killed her even if you weren't after him. He targeted women of opportunity."

"I can't do this anymore," I said after a few minutes of silence. "I'm really done with bond enforcement. I know I said that over the weekend, but I wasn't entirely sure about it. Now I'm sure. Are those jobs with Rangeman still available?"

"Yes. I could really use you in HR for the next three months, but I would like you to learn the ropes of Sales as well during that time. I think you might be better in that position."

"When should I start?"

"Administrative offices are closed for the holiday on Friday, so you can wait to start on Monday. Aurelia's coming in tomorrow, so I might need your help with getting her settled, if you're up to it."

I nodded. "And about our relationship."

"What about it?"

"I'm ready for it to really begin," I told him. "I know it has only been a week and a half since Morelli and I broke up, but after finding out that he screwed around on me, I've lost most of that guilt that I felt. After everything that's happened in the last few days, I know that I'm ready for this."

Ranger stroked my hair and placed a kiss on my forehead. "Okay then."

"That was romantic," I commented. "Sitting on the bathroom floor after you've just held my hair while I puked."

"Considering the first time we slept together was because I'd bartered with you for it, I think this is an acceptable situation for us," he said, standing up and pulling me with him. "Let's get to bed. You need sleep. We'll postpone the sex we should be having in celebration until tomorrow."

"Because I've been sick?"

"Because I had to see your grandmother naked tonight. I need time to shake that image."

I woke up the next morning to the sound of the apartment door shutting. I opened my eyes and rolled over in bed to see Ranger walking into the bedroom, dressed in a black t-shirt and running shorts. I could see the sweat on his forehead and drenched into his shirt.

"What time is it?"

"Just after six. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better. What's the plan for today? I need to go over to the bond's office this morning to turn in my body receipt and to tell them I'm quitting, but that won't take me long."

I followed Ranger into his dressing room and watched as he stripped out of his clothes and threw them into the hamper. I bit into my bottom lip as I watched his perfectly-toned body being revealed piece-by-glorious-piece.

"I'd like to introduce you to my Human Resources Director and the man you'll be working with in Sales before my parents and Aurelia get here at ten. It shouldn't take long. They both get here at eight."

"Am I going to have to wear pantyhose working in either department?"

That made Ranger chuckle. "I've never been asked that question before."

"That's because you only employ one other woman, and Ella doesn't need to wear pantyhose in her job."

"Neither do you. The dress code in those departments in business casual."

"All black?"

"No, not in those departments. You can wear whatever colors you want as long as you look professional. And sexy, in your case."

"My boss just told me to dress sexy while working. I think that might fall under the umbrella of sexual harassment."

"Only when we're on the job. Other than that, I'm your boyfriend and therefore obligated to sexually harass you."

"You could write Valentine's Day cards for Hallmark with those sweet words."

"I'll keep my day job."

"I just don't want it to be weird between me and the other people in those offices just because I'm dating the boss."

Ranger shrugged. "They may be uneasy about it at first, but I think they'll relax once they get to know you and realize that you aren't going to be reporting to me."

"Let's hope so."

He was naked at this point and put his running shoes back into the slot along the wall before walking over to me. "Interested in a shower?"

"A shower with boss? It's number three on my list of sexual fantasies."

That got a smile out of him. "What are the first two?"

"I guess you'll have to stick around to find out," I replied as I pulled my shirt off over my head.

At a few minutes after eight, I followed Ranger down to the second floor of the Rangeman building. The second floor housed offices and conference rooms, but I'd never paid attention to the details before. We got off the elevator and turned left, passing offices labeled _Accounting, Medical_ , and _Technology_ before arriving at _Human Resources_. The office was decorated in the same modern professional style as the rest of the building.There was a small seating area and two open doors that revealed private offices. There was a man in one of the offices that looked like he should be a drill sergeant. His hair was buzzed short and he was as muscular as any of the men in the security department. He was dressed in the uniform of the guys who worked in the field, his black t-shirt looking at though it were painted on him. He nodded to Ranger when he saw us walk in.

"This is George Carmichael. He's in charge of field training for new employees," Ranger told me. "You'll coordinate with him from time to time."

George gave me a courteous, albeit formal greeting before answering his phone with a bark.

"What's going on, Ranger?"

The man from the other office had appeared in his doorway. He looked to be in his early fifties with blond hair and hazel eyes. He was in good shape, but not at the same caliber as the guys who worked in the field. We was wearing black dress pants and a long-sleeved blue dress shirt.

"This is Stephanie Plum. She's going to be your temporary assistant until Ngyuen and Hollingsworth are both back on the job. Stephanie, this is Chuck Harper. He's the director of Human Resources for the entire company and manages this office."

Chuck looked like he'd just won the lottery. "Thank God. I'm about to lose my fucking mind. Is she starting today?"

"Monday," Ranger informed him. "I wanted to introduce her to you today. She's going to do be doing a little work in Sales as well."

Chuck's glee immediately disappeared and was replaced with a glare. "How much work in Sales? I need someone with me full-time."

"You'll have her thirty-two hours a week," Ranger said. "I want her to spend a half-day in there twice a week because that's where she'll end up once you are back to your normal routine."

Chuck still didn't look happy, but didn't argue. "I want to pick the times and days that she's in Sales."

"You can battle it out with Rodriguez," Ranger told him. "I know he'll say the same thing."

After assuring Chuck three times that I'd be in the office promptly at eight on Monday morning, we moved on to Sales, which was located on the first floor of the building. We had to walk through the lobby towards another set of offices. Ranger opened the door and was greeted by a tall Latino man dressed in a crisp black suit, white shirt and dark green tie.

"Frederick Rodriguez, Stephanie Plum," Ranger said.

"You're a legend around here," Frederick said, smiling at me. "Didn't you work in the field office for a while doing background checks?"

"Yes, and I believe you were the person who would fill my inbox every time I stepped out of the cubicle."

"Guilty as charged."

"Stephanie is going to be working here full-time. She's going to be Harper's assistant until Miami's and Boston's HR generalists are back on the job, but I want here to be down her two half-days each week to get a feel for the job. Once her time in HR is up, I'm going to transfer her down here to fill Jones's position."

"That's great," Frederick said. "Having a woman in Sales will be a big help, especially with female clients."

"Stephanie is also well-connected around Trenton, so that won't hurt us either," Ranger told him. "You and Harper will have to figure out her schedule. He wanted to be able to choose the hours she's down here."

"I'll make sure you're with me during my prime client hours," Frederick told me. "You can get a feel for how I do the job. Do you know the details of the services we offer?"

I shrugged. "Security systems and the occasion private body guarding?"

Frederick walked across the room and opened a file cabinet, pulling what looked like black gift box out of it.

"This was Jones's iPad," he told Ranger. "It has all of the services and costs on it for her to start studying."

Ranger nodded his approval.

"I'll help you later," he informed me. "But I need to get moving. I have a client meeting in a half hour and you were wanting to go to the bond's office before my family gets here."

"Thanks," I said to Frederick, taking the box from him. "I'll see you next week."

I left Rangeman ten minutes later and headed to my apartment first to drop off Rex, the suitcase I'd packed on Saturday and the iPad box before heading to the bond's office. I parked in front of the office behind Lula's Firebird and headed inside, feeling giddy at the idea of quitting once and for all.

"Did you and Ranger really catch Sunny doing the nasty with your granny last night?" Lula asked me as soon as I was inside the office.

"Unfortunately, yes," I said, handing Connie the body receipt. "Then he died while on top of her and Ranger had pull him off of her while we waited for the police. We've agreed that we'll never speak of the situation again."

"I can't imagine that was a pretty picture," Connie said, shuddering.

"Let's just say that of all the things that have happened to me in the past couple of weeks, this is the one that will have me in looney bin. And speaking of looney bins, I'm quitting this one."

Lula's and Connie's heads both jerked up. "What?"

"I'm done with bond enforcement. I'm going to work at Rangeman full-time. And Ranger and I are officially in a relationship, but that's not related to working here."

"Wait, you're dating Ranger _and_ you're going to be working for him?" Connie asked.

"That sounds like a dirty fantasy. If I were you, I'd ask him to bend me over his desk and do me good after telling me I'd screwed something up. Kind of like in that movie _Secretary_. Have you ever seen that? Lula asked, her eyes glazing over as she lapsed into a daydream.

"I'm sure Vinnie would act that out with you if you asked," Connie said, making Lula visibly gag.

"Oh hell no. I meant it would be hot if you worked for Ranger."

"Anyway, you're getting a promotion," I told Lula. "And I've been chased down by a psychopath for the last time."

"We'll miss you around here, but I get why you'd want out," Connie said.

I stayed and talked to Connie and Lula until nine-forty, when I got in the car and headed back to Rangeman. I walked into the control room and peeked into Ranger's office, but he wasn't there. I took a seat in the guest chair and read a couple of Buzzfeed articles on my phone while I waited for him to come back. He ended up calling my phone.

"My parents just got here. I'm headed down to the garage to help them unload. Will you go up to Ella's apartment, get the key to Aurelia's apartment, and meet us there?"

"Will do, boss," I said. I hung up and headed up to the sixth floor. Ella had the key waiting for me and told me that the apartment was 4D. I opted to take the stairs so that the elevator would be open to bring up Aurelia's belongings. We all arrived at the apartment door at the same time. There were several boxes loaded onto a trolley and Javier and Ranger each carried an additional box. I quickly unlocked the door and moved aside so that everyone else could enter the apartment. The rest of Aurelia's belongings, which turned out to be hanging clothes, were brought up in one more trip. Lola became consumed with helping Aurelia find the right place for every item, despite Aurelia's protests that she could do it on her own.

"Lola, _mami_ , I think we should let Lia do this for herself," Javier eventually told his wife. "Why don't we take her to lunch before we have to head back home?"

Lola looked like she wanted to argue, but something in her husband's expression stopped her. She asked if Ranger and I wanted to join them for lunch, but Ranger had another meeting and I declined, wanting to give them some private time together. I told Aurelia I'd stop by later to see if she needed to go out and get anything once she'd unpacked and I left with Ranger. I'd expected he would hit the button for the fifth floor and was surprised when he fobbed his way up to his apartment.

"I thought you had a meeting?"

"I do, but I need to change for it."

I followed him into the apartment and stopped in the kitchen for a bottle of water. He followed me and grabbed one for himself. "Where's Rex?"

"Back at my apartment. I took my stuff home before I went to the bond's office earlier."

Ranger watched me for a few seconds while he took a drink of his water. I thought he was going to say something, but either I'd been wrong or he changed his mind because left the kitchen and headed to his dressing room, emerging ten minutes later dressed in a suit and tie.

"Sexy," I commented, giving him a kiss.

"Thanks. Am I going to see you anymore today?"

"I told Aurelia I'd be over later to see if she needed anything. I need to go home, unpack my bag, and head to my parents to do some laundry."

"Ella could have done your laundry."

I shrugged. "It makes uncomfortable to ask her to do it. She doesn't work me."

"She works for me, and that extends to you. It always has, but especially now. You shouldn't feel uncomfortable about that."

This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have right now, but I knew it wouldn't be able to be avoided. Ranger was rich, I knew this and had been on the receiving end of it to an extent with cars and protection when I needed it, but it was going to be different when it came to having his housekeeper take care of me when I was there. But I hoped to put the conversation off for a while longer.

"You didn't have to go back home," Ranger continued, walking towards the door as he spoke. "You could have kept staying here with me."

"Why? Sunny's off the street now. I'm no longer in danger."

We got into the elevator and Ranger hit the buttons for the fifth floor and the garage. He didn't say anything else but a quick "Later" as he stepped off the elevator thirty seconds later. I left the office with the impression that something was bothering Ranger, but wasn't exactly sure what. I headed over to my parents' house with my laundry in tow to find that my mother wasn't speaking to my grandmother, my father was hiding out at the lodge, and the phone was ringing off the hook. I could practically see the steam coming off of my mother's forehead every time she had listen to Grandma re-tell the story of what had happened with Sunny. I opted for the quick cycles on the washing machine so that I could get the hell out of the house as quickly as possible. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, which was unusual for my mother and grandmother, who got on very well in spite of their different personalities. I nearly bolted out the door two hours later when the last load of laundry was finished. I spent another two hours putting my laundry away, cleaning my apartment and checking out the iPad I'd gotten at Rangeman. I found the information about the services and products provided by Rangeman and started getting acquainted with the generalities of all that was offered. I hadn't been aware that Rangeman Trenton's service area had extended into Philadelphia, down to Camden and up to Newark, utilizing contractors in those areas. The security services included personal body guarding, event security, home and business security, and monitoring of a brand of car security systems. I nearly fell out of my chair at the costs, but knew that Ranger provided a high quality of service worthy of the price tag.

I left again for Rangeman at four o'clock and headed straight up to the fourth floor. I knocked on the door to Aurelia's apartment and she opened it seconds later. She was still wearing the jeans and green shirt I'd seen her wearing earlier in the day.

"Hi Stephanie!" she said brightly, pulling me into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm so excited."

"I can tell," I said, extricating myself from her grasp and following her inside. "You've been busy decorating."

There were pictures on the walls of her family and people that I presumed were friends. There was a poster on the wall near her bed of Hugh Jackman as Wolverine.

"Yum," I said, running a hand over Hugh's exposed abdomen. Aurelia giggled.

"He's so cute. I only watch those movies because he's in them."

"Do you need any help unpacking or do you need to go anywhere today?" I asked her, checking out a picture of her with a young man in a wheelchair that was sitting on the bedside table.

"Could we go to the mall? I want to buy something new for my apartment," she asked, looking hopeful. "And could we stop for pizza? I want to eat pizza and drink soda and watch television in my new apartment tonight."

I could help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Sure, let's roll. I'll take you to _Pino's._ They have the best pizza in town."

After an hour and a half at Quaker Bridge Mall, she called ahead an order into _Pino's,_ which we picked up on our way back to Rangeman. I helped her haul her bags and food up to her apartment, knowing that the rest of the inhabitants on the fourth floor would be jealous. Aurelia set the pizza on the counter in her kitchenette and I set her bags on her bed. She opened up the new movie she'd bought at the mall and put it into her DVD player before heading over to open her pizza.

"What do you do for the Fourth of July?" she asked me as she pulled out two slices.

"I usually go somewhere and watch the fireworks. It depends on who I'm hanging out with. What do you usually do?"

"Just watch the fireworks with my parents," she said. "I always wanted to go watch them with my sisters, but my mom always said no."

"What do you sisters do?"

"They all go into New York to Silvia's house. She has a table and chairs on her roof and they go up there and drink margaritas and watch the fireworks and listen to music. It always sounded like fun, but mom didn't want me to go. I can't drink margaritas because I take medicine and she worried that my sisters wouldn't watch me if they'd been drinking. It's not fair. I don't need a babysitter. I know not to go close to the edges."

The look of disappointment on Aurelia's face was heartbreaking. It made me want to do something really special for her first holiday in Trenton.

"Let's do something fun tomorrow night," I told her. "I'll call a couple of my friends and we'll celebrate together."

The look of pure joy on Aurelia's face was so radiant that I almost cried. "That would be awesome! What are we going to do?"

"I don't know yet," I told her as there was a knock at the door. "But we'll have it figured out by tomorrow night." I opened her apartment door to find Ranger standing there, still dressed in his suit.

"Hey Rico," Aurelia said as she sat down on her sofa with her pizza. "He hates when I call him Rico. That's what I called him when he was a little boy because he always hated being called Ricardo."

"Still do," Ranger replied. "I see you've been shopping and that Stephanie's introduced you to _Pino's."_

"Yep. Do you want some pizza?"

"No thanks. Stephanie and I are having dinner up in my apartment. I wanted to stop by to bring you a key," he told her, pulling a fob that looked just like mine out of his pocket. "It'll help you get up to my floor if you need me. You just get in the elevator, hit this button and press the number seven."

"Cool," Aurelia replied, taking the fob and looking it over. "I feel like I'm in a movie or something."

Before I left the apartment, I wrote my cell phone number down for Aurelia and told her I'd be in touch about plans for the next night. She bid us goodnight and settled down with her movie and pizza while Ranger and I headed up to the seventh floor. Ella had already delivered dinner, which was a marinated chicken and vegetables.

"How was your day?" I asked Ranger as we took our seats.

"Fine. Uneventful. Yours?"

"Okay. My parents' house isn't a very fun place right now. My mother and grandmother aren't on speaking terms."

"I guess you should have let Ella do your laundry."

"Are you mad at me for some reason?" I asked. "You've been a little short with me ever since I told you I'd taken my stuff home."

Ranger set his fork down next to his plate and looked at me for a minute. I could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. "No, I'm not mad at you. I guess I'm disappointed. I've liked having you here. Not that I haven't always liked you being here, but more so in the last few days. You've really felt like mine. I want you to be comfortable here. I want this to feel like a home to you, so that you can do anything here that you would do at your apartment, and that you can ask anything of Ella that I would. I want you to leave things here so that you can stay without having to bring anything with you. This is my life, and I want you to be happy in it."

That had been as close to a rambling statement as I'd ever heard out of Ranger. It had also been incredibly personal, which was something I'd been seeing more of in the last couple of weeks. I liked it, even though it still seemed bizarre to have him opening up to me like that.

"I didn't realize," I said. "I figured you would want your space back. You're so private."

"It's surprised the hell out of me," he admitted. "But ever since we talked after the wedding, I've wanted you to be closer. I've wanted to tell you things and have you in my apartment more often. It has been easier than I expected to have you more involved in my life."

The admission was so tender that I couldn't help but lean over to give him a kiss. I could tell he was a little embarrassed by it, but I wanted him to understand how much it meant to me.

"Will you stay here tonight?" he asked as we broke apart. "I want to spend the night with you, but I should stay here since it's Aurelia's first night in the apartment."

"Sure. I just need to go home to take care of Rex and grab some stuff," I replied. "Stuff that I can go ahead and leave here, since you're so open to me invading your closet. And your bathroom. You do realize I'll need to leave things like tampons and shampoo here, right?"

"I grew up with four sisters. It won't be the first time I've had to share a bathroom with a box of tampons."


	9. Chapter 9

"What are we doing?"

"You'll see in a minute."

Aurelia and I were standing in the Rangeman lobby waiting for Lula and Connie to show up for our big Fourth of July plans. I'd kept her in the dark about what we were doing on the off-chance that something happened to interfere with my plans, only telling her that my friends were coming over. I heard the thumping of Lula's bass about twenty seconds before I saw her car pull into the visitor's lot. She and Connie climbed out of the car and headed towards the front door, both dressed in halter tops and short skirts. Once they were admitted entrance by the Rangeman employee assigned to the front desk, I made introductions and told everyone to follow me onto the elevator. When we arrived on the seventh floor, I thought Lula and Connie were going to explode with happiness. They had begged me time and again to take them up to Ranger's apartment over the years, but I had refused. I knew I was probably going to regret bringing them in now, even for just a minute, but I hadn't been able to work out a better plan.

"Okay, ladies," I said as we all walked through the quiet apartment towards the kitchen. "The plan for tonight is that we will make margaritas down here and then take them up to the roof to watch the fireworks."

I turned around to find that only Aurelia had followed me into the kitchen.

"Where are Lula and Connie?"

"I think they ran towards Carlos's bedroom," Aurelia replied.

We both headed to the bedroom, where I found Lula rifling through the bedside tables and Connie in going through Ranger's underwear drawer in the dressing room.

"What are you guys doing?!" I shouted. I wasn't so shocked by Lula's behavior, but I'd thought Connie would have had a little more restraint.

"I doubt we're ever going to have this opportunity again, so we are taking full advantage of it," Connie replied unashamedly.

"Yeah," Lula agreed. "Like I would have never known Ranger used Magnums if I hadn't come in here. Good for you, girl. I always thought he looked like he was packing something good."

I tried not to blush as I slid a glance in Aurelia's direction. Either she possessed Ranger's uncanny ability to display no emotions when confronted with an uncomfortable situation or else she hadn't understood Lula's reference. I prayed it was the latter.

"I've got to admit I'm surprised to find all of these pairs of underwear," Connie said, holding up a pair of black boxers. "I always figured him for a commando kind of guy."

"You two need to get out of here before Ranger finds you and kills us all."

"Too late," came Ranger's voice from behind me. I sucked in some air and turned around to face him.

"We were just stopping by the kitchen for a minute, but they got away from me," I blabbered. "I was just trying to get them out, I swear."

Aurelia nodded enthusiastically. "It's true, Carlos."

No one said anything as Connie and Lula slowly closed the drawers they had opened and made their way towards the bedroom door. Ranger caught Connie by the arm as she tried to walk around him to leave the room. He finally broke his eye contact with me when he pulled a strap of Connie's purse down her arm enough to reach inside her bag and pull out a pair of his boxers that she'd been attempting to smuggle out. She gave him a sheepish look before scurrying out behind Lula, dragging Aurelia along with her.

"I really am sorry," I whimpered.

I saw the corners of Ranger's mouth twitch. "Babe, I believe you. No apology necessary."

I stared at him for a beat. "Then why did you look like you wanted to kick the nearest available ass?"

"I wanted to get the message across to Lula and Connie that it wasn't acceptable for them to be in our bedroom going through our personal belongings."

 _Our_ bedroom? _Our_ belongings? I hadn't even had a chance to unpack the stuff I'd brought with me to leave here and he was already giving me ownership.

"Thanks for not being upset with me. We'll just grab our margaritas and head up to the roof now."

"Why are you drinking margaritas on the roof?"

"It's for Aurelia. She told me that your other sisters get together every year and watch fireworks from Silvia's roof and drink margaritas, but that she was never allowed to go. I talked to Louis about how to access the roof, I brought stuff over to make margaritas—virgin margaritas for Aurelia—, and then I asked Lula and Connie to come over. I wanted her first holiday here to be special."

Ranger kissed me on the forehead and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Thank you, babe. She'll love it."

"Do you want to join us?"

"No, I'm working tonight. I'll check in on you later to see if you're still upright."

Ranger left the apartment and I headed to the kitchen, where Connie and Lula had started making the margaritas. Aurelia was standing by watching the process with obvious pleasure. I opened the refrigerator and found that Ella had prepared a small platter of food for us consisting of sandwiches, brownies, and a couple of different dips for the chips that sat on the counter. Not the standard Rangeman food, thank goodness.

"Don't put the tequila into the margarita mix," I told Connie. "Aurelia can't drink and I'm probably going to have to limit myself to one with tequila if I want to stay conscious for very long. We can add as much as we want to each glass."

The roof was accessible from the stairwell and Louis had left the doors unlocked for us that evening. Upon our arrival, we found four adirondack chairs with tables arranged between them set up for us on the roof, undoubtedly Ella's doing. We set our food and drinks down and each took a seat, taking in the sounds of illegal fireworks, faint music, talk and laughter from people walking down the street, and emergency sirens that indicated Trenton's celebrations of America's independence were in full-swing. The last glimmers of twilight were visible on the horizon and I guessed the fireworks would start within the hour.

"Why haven't we ever done this before?" Lula asked as she took a big gulp of pomegranate margarita. "We're gonna have an excellent view of the fireworks without some drunk-ass fool trying to get a piece."

Aurelia's glee was evident as she took a sip of her margarita. "This is so cool. My sisters aren't the only cool ones now."

"Damn straight," I replied, clinking glasses with her.

After we ate our food and refilled our drinks, Lula decided we needed some music. Most of her music ran in the hip-hop and rap genres, but after a margarita with quite a bit of tequila, I found I was able to dance almost as well as Lula. Connie decided not to dance, saying someone needed to be able to see if we were getting too close the ledge, but Aurelia was up and shaking her ass without a care in the world. I had a feeling the guys in the Rangeman control room might be laughing at us, but I didn't particularly care at that moment. I was having fun, and more importantly, so was Aurelia. At one point, she insisted that we all crowd around her for a group photo to post to her Facebook page.

The city-sanctioned fireworks began booming in the distance shortly after ten o'clock and the roof of the Rangeman building proved to be one of the best views in the city. The entire display lasted about twenty minutes and once the finale was over, the city expressed its pleasure with more illegal fireworks. Somehow, Lula and Connie managed to talk me into one more margarita while Lula taught us something called the Cupid Shuffle. The next thing I knew, I was naked in Ranger's bed with sunlight streaming in the windows. I found him lying next to me, watching me with an amused expression on his face.

"What?"

"How's the hangover?" he asked.

"I don't remember what happened after my second margarita," I said, snuggling into his chest to protect my eyes from the bright light that felt like laser beams.

"According to the men in the monitor room, you guys drank and danced until you fell over. Ella set up cots for Connie and Lula in Lia's apartment and my men helped get you three off the roof. You woke up at some point in the night, still drunk, and started sending me text messages."

"What kind of messages?"

Ranger reached over to his table and grabbed his phone. He pressed a couple of buttons and scrolled through the screen for a few seconds before handing me the phone. It took a second for my bleary eyes to decipher the messages. I had misspelled a bunch of words and when Ranger asked how drunk I was, I had responded with a topless picture of myself. I was standing in the dressing room and took the photo in the mirror. I felt my face go red as I stared at the picture. I had never in my life taken dirty pictures like that. The rest of the conversation proved to be equally embarrassing. I said things in the messages that I wouldn't ever say out loud or in written word and sent him more naked pictures.

"Oh my God. I can't believe I did that," I said, giving Ranger his phone back and immediately looking around for my own. I didn't want to say it to him, but I was worried about my judgment the night before and if I may have sent any of those pictures to other people.

"You didn't send them to anyone else, if that's what you're worried about," Ranger replied. "I checked."

I breathed a sigh of relief, but still grabbed my phone. "I still want to delete these photos. I don't want to risk accidentally forwarding them to anyone or having them found if someone grabs my phone."

"I don't intend to delete them from my phone," he told me while placing a kiss on my bare shoulder. "In fact, I couldn't wait to get home so I could fulfill your requests, especially that first one about eating your—,"

"Please, don't say it out loud," I begged, putting my hand over his mouth. "I'm mortified that I actually said that to you."

"Why? I've done it to you several times and it happens to be one of my favorite activities," he replied as he pushed the sheets off of our bodies and climbed on top of me. He kissed me deeply before moving his way down my body and fulfilling not only the first request, but the three requests that had followed. The experience was not only magical, like it always was with Ranger, but also proved itself to be a better hangover cure than McDonald's fries and a Coke.

While Ranger stayed in bed to get some sleep, I took a shower, unpacked the things I'd brought to leave at the apartment and then headed home. I fed Rex before I went to my closet to start digging through the clothes that would be acceptable to wear to work at Rangeman. My dress code in bond enforcement had been jeans and t-shirts, so that made up ninety-percent of the clothes I owned. I decided to thin out the closet a little, piling worn out clothes in a bag, and headed out to Goodwill.

I had intended to just drop the clothes off and head to the mall, but as I passed the windows, I noticed a really cute dress on display and decided to see what the store offered. I wasn't a snob. Two hours later, I walked out of the store with ten pairs of pants, five pairs of capris, four skirts, and twenty tops that would cover every season. The dress had been too small, unfortunately. But the whole trip had only cost me $150 because I'd been lucky enough to show up on a half-off discount day.

I spent the remainder of the day cleaning my apartment and doing something I hadn't done since the first week I'd lived in my building, which was to use the basement laundry facilities. I survived the event unscathed from the gremlins that I was convinced lived down there and by seven was starving for a pizza. Ranger showed up thirty minutes after I placed my order with my pizza in hand.

"I ran into the delivery guy in the hall," he told me.

"Are you going to join me?" I asked him as I opened the refrigerator to grab a beer.

"I can't. I came over to tell you that I'm heading for Boston as soon as I leave you. My managing director, Josh Duncan, took a hit while on a call. He's in surgery now, but they aren't optimistic about his long-term recovery. He's co-owner of the branch and we were supposed to finalize paperwork for me to buy him out this week. I need to be up there to check on him and his family and to keep his men functioning in his absence. He has a wife and eight-year-old twin girls and is well-liked by his men."

I could tell Ranger was worried about his partner, so I went over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around me and we stood silently for a minute in each other's arms. I was not only worried about Josh, but I was worried about Ranger. He'd always been hesitant about a relationship with me for reasons that had included his dangerous job. I hoped that Josh's injury wouldn't set us back or cause us to stagnate in our relationship when it was just getting started.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back," he said after another moment. "But I'll keep you updated. By the way, Chuck told me to tell you to check your email. He sent you some stuff to read before you start on Monday."

We headed back towards my door, but before Ranger moved to open it, he gently pushed me against the foyer wall and kissed me. The kiss was tender, but no less spectacular than any other kiss.

"Love you, babe," he whispered.

"I love you, too," I replied. "I know Ella's there, but I'll still stop in and check on Aurelia every day."

Ranger nodded, kissed me on the forehead and left the apartment, leaving me to my pizza and beer with a slightly heavy heart. I spent the rest of the evening and most of Sunday reading the Rangeman employee manual and rules of employment confidentiality that Chuck had sent me on the iPad I'd gotten from Rodriguez. I could tell Ranger had had a hand in the policy writing, as it was very concise and direct. No flowery language or long-winded explanations. Do your job, or else face his wrath.

Monday morning rolled around much faster than I would have liked. I managed to haul my carcass out of bed at six-thirty so that I could be dressed and functioning when I walked into HR at eight. I figured with Boston's office not only being down an HR generalist but now their managing director that Chuck would be stressed beyond belief. Even though the men didn't know each other that well between offices, there was still a sense of brotherhood that would mean the Trenton guys would be feeling the pain of their Boston brothers. Ranger had called me Sunday afternoon to say that Josh had made it through surgery and survived the night, but that it was likely he would be paralyzed from the waist down. The sell-out of the business was currently on hold until it was determined whether Josh would be returning to work. If not, then Ranger intended to give him more money in the buy-out. He had also told me that he would be home on Tuesday evening and asked if I would spend the night with him. No one had needed to hold a gun to my head to agree to that.

I arrived at Rangeman at ten minutes to eight and went straight to the HR office. Chuck pounced on me as soon as I walked in the door.

"Did you read the manuals I sent you?"

"Yes, I did."

"Then I need you to start going through every office's personnel files and check to see if anyone is overdue for physicals, evaluations or recertifications. Anyone overdue gets an immediate email and ass-chewing from their managing director. Then I want you to work on the list of people who are due for any of those things within the next sixty days, got it?"

He hadn't stopped once for a breath and had continued typing on his computer the entire time. I was impressed by the level of multitasking.

"Okay, I can do that if you'll just show me how," I said, setting my purse down next to the small desk that was presumably mine.

Chuck sighed heavily, as though I should already know how to do this, and took five minutes away from his computer to walk me through the program HR used to record and monitor employee data. I quickly learned how to run a report for certain date ranges, by particular topic, for the entire company and for individual offices. Through running the reports, I learned that every field employee of Rangeman was required to have an annual physical that met certain standards, psychological testing every five years and trained in CPR and first aid, defensive driving, weapons, hand-to-hand combat, surveillance techniques, and strategic planning, all of which was recertified every one to two years, depending on the topic. My first run of overdue recerts found three in Miami, one in Atlanta, and two in Boston. There weren't any overdue in Trenton, of course. Ranger wouldn't stand for that. All of those that were overdue had just recently expired, but only one had a note in the system as to why they hadn't been completed, which was a man who had broken his leg last month and was undergoing physical therapy. No one else had reported an injury or valid excuse, so I emailed each individual, copying Chuck, Ranger, Tank, George the trainer, and the respective managing directors to the email with a deadline of scheduling their needed appointments by the end of the week. Two of the men had immediately replied to my email with excuses of why they couldn't meet that deadline. I had replied with a simple "Quit whining and do as you're told" to both of them before moving on to run the list of people who had trainings coming due.

"You can't tell people to quit whining!" Chuck shouted. "Jesus Christ, you're working in Human Resources. You're supposed to be the objective rule-enforcer. Their boss is the one who kicks their ass."

"I figured this was Rangeman-style HR. I can't imagine Ranger holding his employees' hands over some lame excuses for not getting something done," I replied.

Seconds later, I heard my email ding and saw a reply from Ranger.

 _Babe. Maybe this HR job should be permanent._

After a glance back at Chuck, who had gone back to typing, but was shaking his head and mumbling under his breath, I composed a reply.

 _ **I think Chuck would disagree with that. He didn't appreciate my response as much as you.**_

Ranger's reply came back two minutes later.

 _Chuck is a very good manager, but also an uptight asshole. I tell him so every year in his performance evaluation._

I barely restrained a snort of laughter at the visual that popped into mind. It was always disconcerting to see Ranger in his office, so I couldn't imagine him doing something as mundane as giving a performance appraisal.

The job of contacting the list of employees due over the next sixty days turned out to be a lot more involved and I was only about half way done by the time lunch rolled around. Chuck and I headed to the dining room to grab lunch at noon and he talked the entire way, telling me about how I should always eat lunch in the office while I worked in HR because it didn't do well to fraternize with employees outside of the professional HR relationship. I managed to not roll my eyes at him. I knew several of the field employees well, having been protected or rescued by them multiple times over the years. I wasn't going to walk around with the same stick up my ass that Chuck did. After grabbing my lunch, I left Chuck and headed up to Aurelia's apartment to see how she was doing. I ran into her talking to Ella about learning to prepare sandwiches for the lunches each day. Once I knew she wouldn't need me for the day, I took my lunch back to the office and finished in record time, since Chuck was still working while he ate and looked at me like I had two heads because I wasn't.

I finished my task around three that afternoon, just as Chuck was heading out to a meeting with the accounting department. When I asked him what else I should be doing, he'd simply grunted that I should familiarize myself with the entire system. I was scrolling through the employee list trying to get a count on how many people worked for Rangeman when I stumbled across Ranger's name. And his personnel file. I bit my bottom lip and tap my foot under my desk. It would be wrong to look at his file without reason, right? But perhaps his trainings were coming due one day after that date range I'd searched? He'd want to know. With a prayer that Ranger didn't have an alarm rigged that would blare throughout the company if I looked at his file, I clicked on the link to his name and his personnel file appeared on my screen. No dire warnings, lightning bolts from God, alarms or immediate phone calls came in the first couple of minutes after I opened the file, so I figured it was safe to go ahead and browse.

Employee files consisted of the usual information like demographics and job history, but also with medical details, IQ tests, psychological profiles, government security clearances and background checks. I'd seen employee files in the past when I'd been helping Ranger look at whether a rash of break-ins was an inside job, but I hadn't seen his file. Next of kin had listed his parents, followed by all five of his siblings. An addendum had added Julie's name to the next of kin following her kidnapping and the revelation to the world that Ranger had a daughter. He had no allergies or medical conditions, but his more serious injuries had been listed. He sported a Top Secret government security clearance, and had been arrested three times for weapons charges in New Jersey, Nevada and Florida, but all charges had been dropped. He had a sealed juvenile record, which I knew was from the time when he had stolen a car as a teenager. His work history went all the way to his high school days when he worked as a life guard at Rocco Beach in Miami. He'd worked part-time for his father for two years while he'd attended Rutgers, Newark to study business. His time in the Army had lasted five years. His post-Army jobs had included bond enforcement for his cousin in Miami along with a job at a security agency in Miami. It also showed where he had moved back to New Jersey two years after leaving the Army and did bond enforcement for Vinnie while Rangeman was in its early days. No crappy, embarrassing jobs like hot dog vendor or lingerie buyer for Ranger. The results of a Stanford-Binet IQ test had measured his IQ at 136, which fell into a "gifted" category.

Attached to his file were two psychological assessments. One had been completed when Ranger was first getting his business off the ground. The other had been completed two years ago. I knew from the Rangeman policy book that employees had to undergo a psych evaluation every five years, or more frequently if a highly traumatic situation occurred. The second test had coincided both with the five-year mark and Julie's kidnapping and Ranger's most serious injury. This was where I was getting into some very deep waters. I could click on the links and see what the hell was going on in Ranger's head, but was that too far? Did that overstep even the bounds of a romantic relationship? I knew it did to some extent, but part of me justified that Ranger was so private and secretive that he would never share the information with me otherwise. Making an executive decision, I quickly printed off both copies on the printer at my desk, sealed them in a large envelope, and put it in my purse, which was located in one of my desk drawers. I knew there were cameras on me in the office, so I was casual and discreet as I placed the envelope in the drawer, thankful that my messenger bag was open so that I could easily slide the papers inside. I closed out the personnel record and went back to exploring the system until Chuck returned at four-thirty. He informed me then that he had spoken with Fredrick Rodriguez about my hours in Sales and they'd agreed that I would report to Sales from eight to noon on Tuesdays and Thursdays during my time in HR. I bid Chuck good evening and nearly ran for the door as the clock struck five.

I felt like a spy smuggling out state secrets as I left the Rangeman building, wondering if I was going to be busted for accessing the reports and tortured in a small, dark room for days on end. As I drove back to my apartment, I began to feeling increasingly guilty. I had in my possession very personal information about Ranger that I'd obtained without his consent and through my position within his company. He had trusted me to take this job and not to misuse any information I received and this felt like a violation of that trust. But there was still a part of me that reminded myself of his secrecy and how I'd never get to know the depths of his demons if I didn't take a look. When I got home, I took the envelope out of my purse and stared at it. I didn't have to open it right now. I could think things over and then decide after a while whether to destroy it or read it. I figured I owed it to Ranger to give him time to open up to me with our new relationship status. With that guilt-freeing thought in mind, I found some packing tape in a kitchen drawer and secured the envelope to the underside of my bedside table.


	10. Chapter 10

I could never be a spy. I can lie pretty well and I know how to keep my mouth shut, but when it comes to doing things that I suspect might be wrong, my Catholic guilt starts to kick in.

The envelope secured under the table next to my bed haunted me all night long. I could hardly sleep for the worry that someone would break into my apartment and steal it while I slept. Or worse, Ranger knew exactly what I'd done and would kill me when he got back from Boston the next evening. I knew I should I get rid of it without ever reading it, but I was also nervous about taking that step. What if something happened to it while I was transporting it to a safe place to destroy it? I could do it at the office in the morning, but being caught on camera shredding papers like an Enron employee might raise some red flags. There was also that part of me that didn't want to destroy them because I was dying to get inside Ranger's head. If I was considering a long-term—even life-long —relationship with this man, shouldn't I know what I was getting myself into? He had always tried to keep me away from the troubling parts of his history, so I was afraid he'd never tell me the truth. Not that I thought these files would give me explicit details of the things Ranger had done, but I hoped that they could give me more insight into what made him tick. I got ready for work the next morning feeling exhausted. Since I'd be in Sales today, I dressed in a black suit with a white silk shirt and stuffed the iPad in my purse. I left the envelope behind, still not sure what I wanted to do with it. I hadn't been confronted about it yet, so I figured I had more time to decide what I wanted to do. I didn't want to make a hasty decision to shred them and then later regret it.

I headed towards Fredrick's office, deciding I didn't want to step foot in HR until absolutely necessary. The door was open, so I knocked once on the frame to announce my arrival before walking inside. Fredrick's office reminded me a little of Ranger's, though not quite as opulent. Framed diplomas hung on the wall behind the desk. A bachelor's degree from Penn State and a master's degree from NYU. The desk was dark cherry with a glossy shine and was neatly organized. Leather arm chairs sat across the desk from a Herman Miller chair that had probably cost more than my weekly salary. The file cabinets along one wall matched the desk. The large windows allowed plenty of natural light into the office. There were a couple of pieces of tasteful modern art that completed the office. I took a peek at the two picture frames on the desk. One was of Fredrick with a pretty blonde woman, the other was of him with an older man and woman and two young women, both of whom were wearing graduation robes. The resemblance between them all made me assume they were his family. Overall, the office managed to portray success while still feeling comfortable.

"Hey, Stephanie," Fredrick said as he walked into the office. "How was your first day in HR?"

"It was okay," I replied. "I spent the day checking up on whether people are current on trainings."

Fredrick shuddered. "I'd rather crawl naked through broken glass for the next twenty years than work in HR for a day. Did Harper hound you the whole time?"

"Not really. Once he showed me how to do things, I was pretty set. I did get told off for telling someone to quit whining when they were trying to come up with excuses not to get their trainings scheduled by Friday. Apparently that isn't HR-appropriate."

"Pussies," he commented as he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a key. "Let's go check out your office."

I hadn't considered that I would have my own office when I had accepted the job offer from Ranger. All of the men on the fifth floor worked in cubicles when they weren't out in the field, so I had assumed that it was a similar set-up in Sales. Fredrick unlocked the door next to his and flipped on a light. This office greatly resembled his, though it was slightly smaller and lacked the personal touches.

"This is a great office," I told him. "I didn't consider having my own. I have to share with Chuck, and his office isn't nearly this plush."

Fredrick took a seat in one of the guest chairs at the front of the desk while I took my new chair for a test drive. He rested his left ankle on his right knee and gazed around the office.

"When people are looking to begin a relationship with Rangeman, we are their first date," he said quietly. "We listen to their stories, laugh at their jokes, ask about their families, and answer their questions. The guys up on five are the muscle. We are the personality, but we aren't politicians. We don't bullshit them, glad-hand them, or spew prewritten sales pitches. But we do watch their body language and follow their lead. We want them to be comfortable while discussing fees and services. We also have to know why our service is so special. What is it that we can offer than our competitors don't? Why should they pay more for our services than they could pay for similar services with another provider? _That_ is why we have nice offices."

It made sense, and I could see why Ranger employed this man. I had a feeling he could sell sand in the Sahara and leave the buyer feeling like he'd just purchased the greatest invention ever.

"This is an important job," he continued. "Ranger believes you can do it, and so do I. I know that he wouldn't put you in this position just because you're his girlfriend. He would only put you in this position if he knew you had the skills necessary to bring in and maintain clients. I've never known Ranger to make a mistake in the people he hires. You may get some shit from a few people around here, but not from me."

It was nice to know that at least one person in the building believed that I got my position due to my abilities and not simply because I was the boss's girlfriend. He might be the only one, but it was better than nothing. We spent the next hour discussing the services I'd read about on the iPad over the weekend. Fredrick quizzed me on prices and details, asking me questions about why an upgrade would be cost-effective given the benefits. I only had to refer back to the information on the tablet a few times to be sure of my answers, but Fredrick didn't seem bothered by it. Once he felt confident that I understood Rangeman's services, I was instructed to go to another file on the iPad: the competition. While Fredrick wandered off for a conference call with the Sales departments from the other offices, I was left to begin memorizing the service and price details for other security agencies serving the same area. Two were nation-wide companies, one company had several offices throughout Jersey, and one was a tiny company serving Mercer County only, which based on my readings looked like it was close to going out of business. The fees for the other four companies were less than Rangeman's fees, but they also lacked some of the benefits. None of the companies guaranteed that field support would drive by your property daily or would have someone from the company show up at your property whenever an alarm was activated. And I highly doubted any of the other companies had a CEO who personally met with you following a break-in. Rangeman also offered a list of services that the other agencies didn't tap into, such as personal security, event security, background investigations, and cybersecurity. It was noted that none of the other security agencies held government contracts the way Rangeman did.

My time in Sales was spent reading and passed by more quickly than I would have liked, with Fredrick laughing at me as I begrudgingly made my way up to HR for the remaining four hours of the work day. I stopped in at the dining room to grab a sandwich and water before heading to the office, sure that Chuck would have me chained to my desk for the rest of the day. As soon as he heard the door open, Chuck was in the small waiting area telling me all of the things I needed to do for the day. Because Ranger insisted on be a part of all of the 600+ Rangeman employee evaluations, and handled the Trenton office's personally, the evaluations were distributed throughout the year in alphabetical order. The immediate supervisor, the managing director, and Ranger are all present at the employees' evaluations to help them understand individual employees and what changes may be needed branch- or company-wide to make employees more efficient. If Ranger couldn't be physically present, he would attend via conference call. The evaluations were scored on a numeric system that gave points in specific areas and the average of the ten areas equated to the overall score, which determined if you qualified for a pay raise or would be considered for a promotion. I was shown the scale that determined pay raise and the form letter that I would send to the qualifying employees and Accounting with their specific details filled in. The amount of access I had in this position was once again thrust into my face, twisting my stomach in knots with the memory of what I had done the day before. Not wanting to make a mistake, I pushed the thoughts aside and focused on my work.

I worked until a little after five that day, only making it about halfway through the fifty-two people who'd had their evaluations in June. I went up to the fourth floor and knocked on Aurelia's door. No answer. Figuring she might be with Ella, I went up to the sixth floor and found them pushing a cart laden with crockpots, trays filled with fruit and vegetables, and bottles of water.

"Hey, how's it going?" I asked them, holding the elevator door open for them.

"It's great," Aurelia said cheerfully. "I helped make dinner tonight. It's a chicken and rice casserole with corn and cheese, but don't tell Carlos it has cheese. We're spoiling the guys while he's away."

Ella gave me a wink that Aurelia didn't see as we rode down to the fifth floor. The _cheese_ was probably fat-free, which barely qualified as cheese in my opinion. After learning that Aurelia had taken her medications, had talked to Ranger, and was doing well cooking under Ella's watchful eye, I said goodbye and stayed on the elevator, taking it up to the seventh floor. I had intended to watch a cooking show while I waited on Ranger to come home, but ended up falling asleep on the couch. I was awakened by him sitting down next to me and kissing me on the forehead.

"Long day?" he asked as I opened my eyes.

"I didn't sleep well last night. How are things in Boston?"

Ranger wrapped an arm around me and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "As well as can be expected. Josh had an incomplete spinal cord injury. He has some sensation, but can't move his legs at this point. Once the swelling goes down and his injuries start to heal, the doctors think his long-term prognosis is good and that he may be able to walk again within the next year with rehabilitation. His biggest concern was whether he can still have sex with his wife. He'll need more intensive inpatient rehab for a few weeks, but then he'll do the remainder of his rehab outpatient. He wants to proceed with the sale of the branch as planned and to get back into the office as soon as he can. He's reminded every man that came to visit him that while he might not be able to run after them, he can still shoot them if they get out of line."

"Wow, he sounds just like you. How did you meet?"

"He and Tank grew up together and then joined the Army together. Josh got out after his first tour and went to college. Tank went on to Special Forces, where I met him. The security business belonged to Josh's father, Jacob, until eight years ago. Jacob was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease, so he turned everything over to Josh while he was still competent. He died last year. The business had been struggling when Josh took over and he was almost to the point of closing when Tank suggested we meet six years ago. I bought into the company, we changed the name when we incorporated, and now it is the second most profitable branch in the company after Trenton."

"Why does he want to sell if it's so successful?"

"I told him upfront that I intended to be sole owner of the company one day and that I would eventually want to buy him out. He agreed because he doesn't like the owner role. He likes being in charge of the Boston branch—he doesn't necessary want to deal with the other branches' business unless it directly affects Boston in some way. Plus, I know he wants to use some of the money to make his mother's life comfortable and to plan for his daughters' futures."

I snuggled into Ranger and we sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of our bodies together. He'd only been gone three days, but I'd felt the absence. I also felt the nervous butterflies in my stomach again. Did he know that I accessed his file and printed out paperwork? I had tried to be discreet when I'd put the papers in my purse, but the reality was that someone in the monitoring room could have seen what I was doing and informed Ranger, even if they hadn't confronted me directly. I didn't want to tell him, just in case he didn't know and this never had to come out, but I also didn't want to risk lying to him in case he knew.

Jesus Christ, Stephanie, you really know how to get yourself into a mess.

"How have your first two days of work been?" Ranger finally asked me.

 _Don't throw up_ , I told myself. _Don't panic._

"They've been pretty good. HR isn't my idea of a long-term career. Sales seems like something I would enjoy, though all I did today was read up on the competition. On the plus side, Fredrick doesn't think you gave me a job just because we're a couple. He said he knows you wouldn't put someone in a position in your company if you didn't think they had the ability to do what was required," I said, proud that I'd kept the conversation light and that my voice hadn't shown my nerves.

Ranger kissed me on the top of the head. "He's right, and I'm glad to hear he understands the situation for what it is and doesn't make assumptions like a lot of the other guys will."

I was saved further conversation about work by a knock on the apartment door, signaling that Ella had brought us dinner. Ranger and I helped ourselves to baked chicken, asparagus, and wild rice before settling down on barstools at the kitchen island. I watched Ranger as we ate, trying to figure out if he was having any second thoughts about our relationship after Josh's close call. He would look at me from time to time as though he were going to say something, but it wasn't until he had done that for the third time that he actually spoke.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, why?"

"You've been acting a strange. On edge, and then you said you hadn't slept well last night."

I shrugged my shoulders and looked back down at my food. "Maybe it's just getting used to a normal work schedule and learning new jobs."

I could feel Ranger's eyes on me, so I glanced up and smiled. "Really, I'm fine."

Satisfied with my answer, Ranger gave his head a small shake and went back to eating his food. "I thought perhaps you were worried about my safety after what happened to Josh."

"I always worry about your safety. I've just learned to compartmentalize it. Otherwise, I'd do nothing but worry. I did wonder if it would bother you, you know, since you used to always tell me that you didn't do relationships because you had a dangerous job."

"You told me that wasn't a valid reason for not having a relationship with you. Besides, I think you are well-informed enough to know the dangers of my job to know whether you can handle the risks."

That was a shift in thinking that I hadn't been expecting. While we had discussed that issue weeks earlier after Morelli and I had split up, I hadn't actually believed he would change his thinking on it. I wasn't sure what I thought exactly—perhaps that I'd just worn him down—but Ranger actually believing that I could make this decision for myself wasn't it. A night of mind-blowing sex and restful sleep had me feeling better the next day. I didn't think about Ranger's file being in my bedroom as much, nor did it give me the knots in my stomach that it had the day before. It was fine to sit there. I hadn't read it and may never do so. It would be fine. Ranger hadn't said anything about it, so I assumed he didn't know and that we could keep it that way.

We were just finishing breakfast on Wednesday morning when the sound of an alarm rang out. Ranger immediately pulled out his phone and pressed a button as he hurried towards the front door. He asked someone where the alarm was located as he wrenched open the door to the stairway and hurried down them. I followed behind him quickly, my heart skipping a beat when he stopped at the fourth floor and ran down the hall. The door to Aurelia's apartment was open and smoking was coming out of it. She was standing in the hallway crying and the sound of a fire extinguisher in use was barely audible over the blaring alarm. Ranger pulled Aurelia into a hug and I could see her lips moving, but couldn't understand what she was saying. She could be difficult to understand when she was upset or excited, but this was incomprehensible. It was only when Ranger spoke that I realized the reason I hadn't been able to understand her: she'd been speaking in Spanish. I saw Ella come from the elevator and walk over to Aurelia. She and Ranger spoke for a minute before Ella put an arm around Aurelia's shoulders and guided her towards the elevator. I saw Ryan Monroe, one of the Rangemen who lived on the fourth floor, come out of Aurelia's apartment with a fire extinguisher. He was clad only in green boxers, likely having been in bed since getting off his shift at an hour before. He spoke to Ranger briefly before handing the dead extinguisher to Louis and heading down the hall towards his own apartment.

"What happened?" I asked Ranger as Louis headed into the apartment.

"Lia was trying to cook herself breakfast, but managed to start a fire when she was trying to cook bacon. She panicked and knocked a roll of paper towels into the pan and caught them on fire. Monroe said it just looks like smoke damage in there, so Louis should be able to have it cleaned up and aired out by tonight or tomorrow morning. Lia's worried I'll tell our mother and that she'll have to go back to Newark."

"Are you going to tell her?"

Ranger shook his head. "No, I'm not. I told her that everyone has made a mistake when they are trying to cook, but I asked her not to try to cook anything on her own until she has practiced it several times with supervision."

Ranger and I left the fourth floor and went to our respective offices for the remainder of the day. Thankfully nothing else had happened, allowing me to focus on the tasks at hand. My mother called me at lunch time to ask if I was going to come for dinner, to which I agreed. As soon as the clock struck five, I hurried to my apartment to feed Rex and change my clothes, putting on comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. I got to my parents' house right at six, just as everyone was heading to the table to sit down. I hadn't seen my family much in the past three weeks. It had been a little awkward after the situation with Morelli and Ranger had gotten out, and the awkwardness had only been compounded when Joyce sent the recording to most of the Burg. The last time I'd been to the house was the day that Grandma had almost been whacked by Sunny, but I hadn't gone inside. As I sat down at the table, I realized that in the past week my mother hadn't once called me about coming to dinner or ruining my life until today. I looked around and gauged everyone's mood. My father appeared to be in his normal temperament, shoveling his food in without looking up. My grandmother was happily helping herself to a large serving of wine. My mother looked stressed and slightly drunk.

"I heard you quit the bond's office and went to work for Ranger," Grandma Mazur said.

I nodded. "Yes, I did. I'm done chasing criminals."

"And why exactly did we have to hear this from people other than you?" my mother asked. "Why didn't you call and tell us yourself?"

I shrugged. "It was a quick decision. Ranger had offered me the job a couple of weeks ago, but I didn't decide to take it until last Wednesday and just started it two days ago. I figured you would be happy about it."

My mother fiddled with her fork, but didn't pick it up to eat with it. "What exactly are you doing there?"

"I'm working in Human Resources temporarily, but I'll be moving to the Sales department around the first of October. It's an office job, with good pay, and I'm not going to be in danger."

"Do you think it's smart to work for the man you've been sleeping with?"

Every head at the table snapped look in my mother's direction. I was momentarily speechless, not used to my mother being that blunt or acknowledging my sex life. I managed to recover and formulate a response.

"We aren't just _sleeping together_ , we're in a relationship. And it's fine. I never see him at work. He's always in meetings, in his office on a different floor, or out in the field. I don't report directly to him. I have other supervisors who aren't afraid to correct me if I mess up."

"Something else you haven't bothered to tell us about," my mother replied before tossing back the rest of her wine. "Why is it that I always have to hear about your life from other people? And why is that I'm always the one who has to explain everything? Why aren't you defending yourself to all of the people who call here asking about you?"

"Because I don't care what people think about me," I said. "They don't call and ask me questions anyway."

"I wish you would care a little more," my mother snapped, and I could see anger flaring up in her. "I wish you would care more about your life and reputation to not being involved with Ranger, to be able to have a regular relationship without sleeping with other people, and I wish you could manage to not get involved in the dangerous nonsense that you always seemed to find. Look at what has happened in the past month: you've cheated on your boyfriend with a secretive and dangerous man who clearly has no morals, had a video of you having sex make its way around the Burg, been set on fire by a maniac, thrown off a bridge, had cars destroyed, then your grandmother is almost murdered by the man who had you thrown off the bridge. We all have to hear about it wherever we go. Almost everyone in the Burg has seen that video and even your nieces are getting asked about it by their friends. It's embarrassing, Stephanie, and I'm exhausted. I'm tired of fielding questions and defending you to everyone, and I'm especially tired of the worry that every time the phone or doorbell rings it is going to be someone there to tell me that you're seriously injured or dead."

"But that stuff isn't my fault!" I cried. "That psychopath who set me on fire recorded me without my knowledge, and Joyce Barnhardt decided to be a heinous bitch and send out a recording that she illegally accessed. I had a job to do with catching Sunny, and it wasn't my fault that he destroyed my stuff or had me thrown off a bridge or that he kidnapped Grandma. He was a serial killer who enjoyed hurting older women."

"Those things all happened because of the choices you've made in life," my mother shot back. "You _chose_ to go into bond enforcement. You chose to _stay_ in bond enforcement even once you knew how dangerous it could be. You chose to get involved with Ranger, even though there are all sorts of rumors about the things he has done. You _chose_ to cheat on Joseph. If you haven't been in bond enforcement and had just gotten a nice job at a bank or a factory like I've asked you to time and again, you wouldn't have been chasing after Sunny. If you hadn't involved Ranger in your life, you wouldn't have been set on fire three weeks ago, kidnapped two years ago, you wouldn't have cheated on Joseph and wouldn't have everyone in the Burg knowing about your sex life. And even with all of that, you still had the choice to not cheat on Joseph. What do you think is going to happen with your relationship with Ranger? Do you really think he's going to want what you want in life? Do you think he can stay faithful? What does it say about a man who is willing to sleep with another man's girlfriend?"

Anger burned inside me as I stared at my mother. My mother barely knew Ranger, yet she was judging him based on the speculation of the Burg, which was ninety-five percent crap. And if it hadn't been for my involvement with Ranger, I'd have been dead a long time ago. He had saved my life so many times, I'd lost count. I'd never disclosed my feelings for him to my family because it would have only driven my mother to drink and my grandmother to ask inappropriate questions, plus there had been my relationship with Morelli to consider. But now I had a safe job and a stable relationship, but my mother was berating me for it. I decided I didn't want to stay and continue the conversation, since it was almost a guarantee that it wouldn't resolve anything, so I stood up and grabbed my purse from the back of the chair.

"Where are you going?" my mother asked, standing up as well.

"You've made it clear what you think of my life. I'm sorry I'm not Valerie, who had a perfect little life until her husband left her for the babysitter and she came home penniless with two kids and got knocked-up by a bumbling lawyer twice before he'd commit to marrying her. I'm sorry I embarrass you and worry you. I've made changes in my life so that it shouldn't happen anymore, but clearly that isn't enough for you. So I'm going home," I said before hurrying out of the house and to my car.

As I pulled away from the curb, I saw my mother standing in the doorway watching me. I didn't make any acknowledgment as I drove down Liberty Street and headed back to my apartment. I hadn't considered that my relationship with Ranger could possibly come between my family and me. They hadn't exactly approved of Morelli when we'd first started dating, but over time they'd accepted him. I had assumed that Ranger, not having been responsible for taking my virginity and then broadcasting it on bathroom walls around the Burg, would have had a slightly better reception in the beginning of the relationship. He had only ever been polite and considerate with my family, even when he'd had to see my grandmother naked. I was now worried about whether my family would open up to Ranger. I knew Grandma Mazur wouldn't be a problem. She loved Ranger and wouldn't miss an opportunity to see him. My father had only met Ranger a couple of times, but had seemed to like him. As much as my father showed like for anyone, at least. But my mother had the potential to be an issue. If she couldn't accept my relationship with Ranger, then what? Did she expect that I'd end it? Would I be willing to distance myself from my family for my relationship? I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but wasn't sure what exactly was going to happen if it did.

 _A/N: I'm not a Helen Plum hater. She is from a generation with a different mindset than Stephanie's, but also has some valid points in her argument, so this won't be a Helen-bashing story. Just FYI._


	11. Chapter 11

My mother's reaction to my relationship with Ranger had taken me by surprise. I had expected some concern, but not the meltdown that had occurred. A heavy guilt weighed on me as I remembered her words about constantly worrying about me, but blaming me for everything bad that happened to me had hurt. It really _wasn't_ my fault that people blew up my cars, my apartment and had even tried to shoot me. It had been a combination of bad luck and stupid people. I had gone straight home after leaving my parents' house that night and had struggled to find sleep. In an effort to stem the flow of my mother's words that kept recycling through my brain, I eventually gave up on sleep and spent the remainder of the night watching episodes of _Rescue Me_ on Netflix. I had managed to doze off around six that morning, but was awakened by my alarm only thirty minutes later. Even though I'd tried not to think about the fight, it had been all I'd been able to think about all night, and the conclusion I had reached was that I was sorry I had worried my mother, but I wasn't sorry for my life. I liked my life and had made changes that should let her worry about me less. I decided to give her space to be able to see that things would be better now that I was working at Rangeman and that my relationship with Ranger showed a lot more potential for long-term satisfaction than life with Morelli ever had. Her words had stung and I wasn't quite ready to just walk back into her house as though nothing had happened.

I spent the next few weeks focusing on work and enjoying what time I got to spend with Ranger and Aurelia without letting on that anything was different about my life. I hadn't heard anything from my mother, nor had I attempted to contact her. It was on his birthday that Ranger learned the truth of what happened with my mother. We had been getting ready to leave for dinner when Grandma Mazur had called my cell phone to ask for a ride to a viewing. When I said we could pick her up, she informed me that she had moved out of my parents' house and in with her friend Elsie. I gave Ranger directions to get to Elsie's house, where we found my grandmother waiting on the front stoop in a yellow dress with matching shoes and purse twenty minutes later.

"When did you move in with Elsie?" I asked as she climbed in the backseat of the Cayenne.

"Your mother and I have been fighting ever since she said all of that stuff to you at dinner. I keep telling her she was in the wrong, but she doesn't believe it. I was sick of listening to her complain that you hadn't called or come over since then, especially when she was refusing to apologize for it, so I called up some friends last week to see if anyone needed someone to live with them. That's how I ended up with Elsie."

I didn't say anything in response and we finished the drive to the funeral home in silence. I knew Ranger was going to ask me about what had happened once we were alone, so I started preparing what I was going to say. It wasn't until we had dropped Grandma off at the funeral home and had gotten onto Route 1 that Ranger asked the million dollar question.

"What happened with your mother?"

I opted to give Ranger a blow-by-blow account of what had happened rather than a summary. I didn't leave anything out, even the fact that my mother didn't like the fact that I was dating him and thought it was ruining my reputation. He listened to the entire story without speaking or reacting until I had finished.

"I don't agree with how she made her points, but some of them are valid," Ranger said.

"Are you kidding me with this?" I asked angrily. "What the hell do you mean?"

"Your mother was wrong to tear you down the way she did, but I can understand some of the concerns she had. Your job in bond enforcement was dangerous, but you continued to do it in spite of that. You assumed the risks when you kept the job, because if you hadn't been chasing after criminals, you likely wouldn't have experienced most of those situations. I'll admit that I also got tired of hearing the excuse that things were never your fault. You've been reckless and careless in the past, sneaking around doing things you shouldn't have been doing without back-up or even a gun. And being in a relationship with me could ruin your reputation, but I know you well enough to know you don't care about that."

Ranger had just pulled into a parking spot in the lot to the restaurant, so I opened my door and got out, slamming it as I walked away. I hadn't expected Ranger to say that my mother had been right. I'd been expecting that quiet anger that I'd seen in him so many times when someone had hurt me. I had expected him to be on my side. I had only managed to walk twenty feet from the car when Ranger caught up with me and spun me around to face him.

"You're pissed off," he commented.

"No shit, Sherlock. I can't believe you think my mother was right."

"I said she had some valid points. I didn't say she was right," he replied. "She isn't the only one who worries that every phone call or unexpected visitor is going to be someone there to break the news that you're dead. I know that it wasn't your fault that people would come after you the way they did, but you knew the risks involved and chose to stay in the job anyway. Your mother is allowed to have her opinions on your job and our relationship. I don't agree with how she expressed those opinions to you, and I believe she owes you an apology for how she treated you, but she doesn't owe you an apology for her opinion."

I knew Ranger was probably right, but I didn't have to like it. Deciding I didn't want to ruin his birthday dinner, I put my hand in his and we walked into the restaurant. I wanted us to have a relaxing dinner, not one bogged down by my mother's words, which we managed. I had noticed in the weeks since we'd officially began our relationship that Ranger was opening up to me more than he had in the past. As we ate, I'd asked him about his time in college. I learned that his major had been business and that he had dated a woman named Diana during his two years at Rutgers-Newark, but that he'd left both business and Diana behind when he joined the Army. Part of me had wanted to press him on information about his old girlfriend, but I stopped myself. It was his birthday. Not the best time to talk about exes. I had often wondered how many relationships he'd had in the past. I knew about Rachel, but that hadn't been a typical marriage, so I hardly counted that relationship expect for the fact that it had produced a child. Ranger was the kind of man who could buy anything, but wanted little. I asked him over dinner what he would like for his birthday. He smiled and said that he wanted more dirty pictures and messages like those that I'd sent him on the Fourth. I blushed slightly at the memory, but told him that I'd see what I could do.

It was nearly the end of August when Ranger told me about a phone call he had received from his cousin who was a bail bondsman in Miami. Manuel Carranza had written a $3 million bond for a man named Emilio Gardi, who had decided to skip town and have dinner in New Jersey instead of going to court. Given that Gardi was a dangerous guy, Ranger had agreed to the apprehension, but at a twenty-percent take of the bond. I'd gotten the impression that Manuel had thought that Ranger would do the job pro bono since they were family, and hadn't been terribly happy when Ranger asked for double his normal fee. Considering that his options were pay $600,000 to the man bringing Gardi back or lose $3 million to the courts, I didn't think he had too much room to complain.

Apprehending Gardi had been relatively easy given that Ranger was the one doing the takedown. If I had been the one doing the apprehension, the restaurant likely would have burnt to the ground, I would have been on the evening news with my eyebrows singed off, and Gardi would have hopped a plane to a country without extradition. Ranger had authorized me to accompany him to Miami with Gardi as part of the detail so that I could spend a couple of days in the Miami office doing my HR thing. The idea of working away from Chuck for a few days sounded heavenly.

We were due to fly out of Philadelphia in at nine, arriving in Miami around midnight. Gardi had been held for the past twenty-four hours in one of the Rangeman holding cells and had spent most of that time pacing like a caged lion and yelling obscenities like a drunken sailor. Ranger had taken Aurelia up to Newark to visit with their family for a few days and was due back by six-thirty so that we could leave for the airport. I had decided to shower before we left because it was going to be the early hours of the morning by the time we got Gardi booked with the Miami PD and I would want to be sleep as late as possible before work the next morning. I was just reaching for the conditioner when the bathroom door burst open, causing me to scream. It was Tank, who grabbed the white bathrobe hanging from a hook on the wall with one hand and opened the shower door with the other.

"We have to get out of here," he said, throwing the robe at me as he yanked me out of the shower.

"What? Why?" I asked as I struggled to shrug into the robe while following behind him. I saw Tank grab my suitcase and messenger bag from the end of the bed as we raced through the apartment and out into the foyer, by which time I had thankfully gotten the robe secured around my body. A siren blared throughout the building and a red light flashed in the stairwell as we hurried down. I could hear footsteps on the floors below us and a few men shouting to one another though I couldn't make out what was being said. I was breathless by the time Tank pulled me through the door to the parking garage. Several personal and Rangeman vehicles were squealing out of the lot as emergency response sirens wailed in the distance. Tank threw my belongings into the back of an SUV driven by Hal while I climbed into the passenger seat.

"Take her to Bender Street," Tank barked at Hal before slamming my door.

The tires on the SUV chirped as Hal pulled out of garage and onto Haywood Street. We headed down Haywood for two blocks before turning left into a residential neighborhood. We pulled up to a three story townhouse whose backyard was closed off with a cement wall and an iron gate. Hal hit a button and the gate slid open to allow us entrance before closing right behind us. There were six parking spots behind the house, but only one was currently filled.

"What's going on?" I asked Hal, who had already gotten out of the car and grabbed my belongings before I had even set a foot on the ground.

"Gardi had some sort of canister hidden in his ass that he opened prematurely. He managed to expose himself and McCready to whatever was inside it before McCready hit the alarm to evacuate the building. I'm not sure what it is, but it's bad. We just followed protocols and got the hell out of the building. I'm supposed to wait here with you and Raul until I hear from Ranger or Tank," he replied as we walked into the first floor of the townhouse. Hal escorted me over to an elevator, which took us to the third floor and opened up to a modern-style loft apartment. He set my bags down next to a black leather couch in the living area.

"I'll be on one if you need me," he said before disappearing into the elevator.

I picked up my bags and walked around the partition in the living area to find a bedroom and bathroom, both done in the same style as the rest of the loft. I resumed my shower, thankful that Tank had grabbed my suitcase so that I could not only finish washing my hair, but have something to wear other than Ranger's robe. Afterwards, I checked out the kitchen, but didn't find anything to eat. The television had access to basic cable, and the news channels had apparently gotten ahold of the story of something major happening at Rangeman, but didn't have any details. The broadcaster promised to keep viewers informed before moving on to a story about a guy in Atlantic City that had tried to pull off an _Ocean's Eleven_ -style casino robbery with a crew of men that he had been unaware were really from various law enforcement agencies until they arrested him as he went to check in.

As I sat on the couch and waited for Ranger, I thought about how much my life had changed in in just a couple of months. With the exception of the fight with my mother, my life had been going pretty well. My job at Rangeman was pretty good, even if I had to work with Chuck for the time being, and my relationship with Ranger was going very well. We were being cautious as we progressed, not wanting to rush our relationship and possibly ruin it. It might be at a snail's pace, but we were moving forward nonetheless. I'd made sure that I didn't push him into opening up to me before he was ready, and he'd slowly let me see more of his past and his feelings. But now I was worried about what was happening at Rangeman. The entire situation felt implausible. Ranger had known next to nothing about Gardi when his cousin had called about the apprehension and he had only encountered him for the first time as he'd slapped the cuffs on him. So how had Gardi known that Ranger would be the person to come after him? And why would he have been planning an attack on him if they'd never had any interactions? Was it even about Ranger? Could it have been someone else within Rangeman? Or was the attack random, meant for any BEA that came after him? Perhaps he'd expected the police to arrest him instead? The questions made my head spin as I wracked my brain, but came up empty. Ranger had always told me he'd had plenty of enemies that wanted to kill him, but seeing as Gardi didn't know him, that angle didn't work for me. Unless Gardi had been hired by someone. He'd either gotten himself arrested, bonded out by Manuel, and skipped bail all with the intention of smoking Ranger out, or else someone approached him after he'd gotten out of jail and convinced him to skip town and head to New Jersey because Manuel would undoubtedly ask his badass security expert cousin Ranger to apprehend a dangerous skip that had wandered onto his turf. All of that made more sense than anything else, but it had still seemed like a risky move to make because any number of variables could have gone differently.

My musings were interrupted by the opening of the elevator door, which revealed Ranger. He took off his gun belt and set it down on the coffee table before sitting down and wrapping his arms around me.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked him after a minute. "Hal told me Gardi had some sort of canister inside his body that he accidentally set off and infected himself and McCready."

"Gardi had a radioactive ingredient, polonium-210, in that canister, and when he activated it early, he panicked and spilled his guts to McCready. He said someone had paid him to do it. He was supposed to release it into the ventilation system before he left for Miami. It would have infected the entire building."

"Are Gardi and McCready going to make it? How bad is this stuff?"

"It's bad. Remember that Russian spy that was killed in the United Kingdom several years ago? He was poisoned with polonium. There was also suspicion that it was used to kill Yasser Arafat. Even if you manage to survive the initial exposure, you have an increased chance of developing cancer in the future."

I shuddered at the thought. Everyone inside the Rangeman building tonight owed their life to McCready's quick actions. I sent up a quick prayer, asking God to spare Bruce McCready. He'd been with Rangeman for over a year now and primarily worked the evening shift in the monitoring room. I'd learned he was single and a little bit older than me from his personnel records.

Ranger and I talked for a while longer about who could possibly be behind the attack and why. The _why_ was likely because Ranger had made plenty of enemies both in his time in the Army and in his post-military role of mercenary. The _who_ was a little more difficult, though Ranger suspected it was a Russian due to the use and accessibility of polonium. He had asked if I wanted to stay in the loft or go back to my apartment. When I chose the latter, since I knew he'd be busy working all night, he sent a man over to check both my apartment and the building as a whole for any signs that I was on this psychopath's radar. Tank called Ranger back thirty minutes later to say that the only issue they'd found was that Randy Briggs had broken into my apartment and was sitting on my couch in his underwear drinking a beer and watching reruns of _Cheers_. I took the phone from Ranger and told Tank that I wanted to talk to Randy.

"How long have you been there?" I asked Briggs. "And _why_ are you there?"

"Jimmy Poletti blew up my apartment because I know what he's got going on and he wants to get rid of me. I need to stay with you because you've got a gun and I know he got bonded out by your cousin, so you'll be the one hunting him down," he replied. "I didn't think you'd mind."

I made a noise somewhere between a snarl and a laugh. "You didn't think I'd mind that you broke into my apartment? Why didn't you call me?"

"Because my cell phone got blown up in my apartment and I didn't have your number. Geez, you're not exactly important enough for me to have your number memorized."

"Yet I'm important enough that you felt like you could break into my apartment when you felt threatened."

"Cripes, what the hell is your problem?" Briggs asked. "You're usually a little nicer than this. It's because I'm a little person, right? Or is it that time of the month?"

"It's neither. It's because you're a jerk and I've had a bad night. You can stay there for the time being if you promise to feed Rex, not order any pay-per-view porn, or go through my underwear drawer."

"I can do that, but aren't you coming back?"

"Not if you're there," I told him. "But I'll stop by and check on you every day to make sure my apartment is still in one piece. And I'll be sending Lula over as well. I don't do bond enforcement anymore. S he'll be the one going after Poletti, so I'm sure she'll want to talk to you about where she can find him."

"Great," Briggs grumbled. "Freaking fantastic."

"It's either that or you can live on the street until Poletti finds you. Your call."

"Fine, fine," Briggs said. "I'll be a good boy."

I disconnected and handed the phone back to Ranger. "I guess I'm staying here for a while, but we need to get food. I'm starving."

"Ella and Louis should be here in a while with supplies. I have the rest of the live-in employees staying at some of the safe houses in the area, so they went to buy clothes and food for a few days while the FBI do their thing at the office. I'm going to do some work from here before I head back to the building. I'm not allowing anyone inside without my men there to supervise. We've shut down our systems from here, but I still want any outsiders supervised inside. We can't risk some idiot trying to get one up on us to compromise the office. They will insist on checking the entire building for signs of polonium, even though the ventilation system was shut down almost immediately after the canister was activated."

I watched Ranger as he spoke. I could tell he was stressed, though he wouldn't admit it. I knew he wasn't as worried about his own well-being as he was for that of the people who lived and worked in the Rangeman building. It also didn't help that he wasn't sure who he was dealing with at this point or what this person was willing to do to get to him. Over the next hour, he took several phone calls from both his Trenton and Miami staff and his cousin, Manuel. He was trying to track Gardi's movements back to Miami in an attempt to find out where he would have obtained the polonium, which would hopefully help identify who gave it to him. He was also having a team set up to keep an eye on his daughter in case the person decided to use her as leverage to get to him.

"Gardi flew nonstop out of Miami to Newark on Friday afternoon," Ranger said after a ten minute conversation with Silvio, his tech guy in Miami. "But we don't know where he went between landing at Newark and arriving at the restaurant last night. He had to obtain the canister during that time. There's no way that could have passed through airport security, either on his person or in a checked bag. I need to talk to him in person, but the FBI has him under heavy guard in the isolation unit at St. Francis."

I'm not a particularly religious person, but this was on instance where I was willing to believe in Divine intervention, even if God's help did come in the form of Randy Briggs.

At two-thirty the next afternoon, we met Lula and Randy Briggs outside of St. Francis hospital. The fact that Briggs was able to get us in a maintenance room because the hospital never changed security codes was convenient, but not comforting as a former patient.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Ranger said as he stared down at the gray metal cart in front of him. "Are you sure there isn't any other way to get me up to the isolation unit?"

"I thought of every possibility and this is all we've got," Briggs replied, handing out scrubs, gloves, masks and surgical gowns. "Housekeeping is all women and there's no way they'd let hospital security just strut into the room for a chat with him. They'll clear out when they think someone is coming out with contaminated linens because they aren't wearing protective gear. The only issue will be getting you out of the cart without them seeing you. Someone will need to open the door while someone else distracts the detail so that you can get into the room. You may have to do the same thing when you get ready to come out if they are watching the door."

"I can do that," Lula said. "I'll distract the hell out of those G-men."

"G-men?" I asked, pulling on scrubs over my clothes. "Does anyone still use that term anymore?"

"I dunno," Lula replied thoughtfully. "Maybe I can ask them about that."

The metals carts were used to secure contaminated linens in lieu of the traditional cloth housekeeping carts. I wasn't exactly sure how well Ranger was going to fit, but we were going to try anyway. I saw him take in a breath and shake his head slightly, probably mourning his _machismo,_ before climbing in the cart. He sat down on the edge and tucked himself into it, the way a child might try to stuff himself into a kitchen cabinet. I closed the door and we did a couple of practice runs on the best way for him to get in and out without being seen or heard before heading up to the third floor. Briggs stayed behind because of the security cameras, and I worried that Lula and I looked suspicious, trussed up in masks, gloves and gowns before we even got to the floor. Fortunately, no one seemed to pay us any attention. We were both a little winded by the time we got to the third floor isolation unit from the effort of pushing the combined weight of the heavy metal cart and Ranger. There were three FBI agents sitting at the end of the hall outside of Gardi's room. While Lula went to inform the guards that I was going to be collecting the contaminated linens, which immediately sent the men several feet down the hall, I opened the door to Gardi's room before I opened the side door to the cart and used my body to block the sight of Ranger climbing out while I pretended to search around for an orange plastic bag. I followed him inside the room and shut the door behind us. I went to the bathroom and grabbed a couple of unused towels and stuffed them into the bag, all the while listening to Ranger's conversation with Gardi.

"It's you," Gardi said weakly. "Are you here to rip my head off? It might be a cleaner death than what I'm facing."

"I'm here to find out how you got the polonium," Ranger replied.

I came out of the bathroom and listened to the rest of the conversation as Gardi told Ranger about how a man with a tattoo on his neck had approached him to offer to pay off his debts if he would skip bail, head to New Jersey, and make sure he got picked up Carlos Manoso, a bounty hunter. Once he was inside the Rangeman building, he was to release the canister on time delay into the ventilation system before leaving for the airport. The man had paid off all of Gardi's debtors and had left the canister in a room at the Gatewell Hotel in New York, where Gardi went for the night after he landed at Newark. Ranger asked if the tattoo was a skull and flower and if the man had a scar over one eye. Gardi said he did.

"So you're not going to kill me?" Gardi asked as Ranger made to leave the room.

"If you live and my man doesn't, I will kill you in such a way that you'll wish the polonium had done the job instead," Ranger replied before we moved to leave the room.

I peeked out the door and saw that Lula was still talking to FBI agents, none of whom were paying attention to the door. I opened it slowly and walked out, holding the orange bag out in front of me as I went to open the door to the cart. I made a show of pretending to move things out of the way as Ranger crammed himself back into the cart. I stuffed the bag in with him and shut the door.

"Shaneeka, we're done here," I told Lula. "We need to get these downstairs right away."

"Right-O," Lula said, waving at the FBI agents as she helped me push the cart down the hall. "Those guys were telling me that G-man is short for _government man._ How boring is that? I was thinking it was because they were especially good at finding a G-spot."

My heart thumped in my ears as we made our way back to the maintenance room where Briggs was hanging out. We walked into the room and shut the door behind us, immediately opening the door to the cart before stripping out of our housekeeping paraphernalia and heading out a side door to a lot where Connie and Hal were waiting in separate cars. I said good-bye to Lula and Briggs and got into the Rangeman SUV with Ranger. No one spoke until after we left the lot.

"The man who gave him the canister was an SVR agent that I had a run-in with in North Korea ten years ago," Ranger told me as we drove back to Bender Street. "His specialty was disemboweling people, but he tried that once on me and failed. He didn't get a deep enough cut before I took the knife from him and stuck it in his eye."

"Lovely," I said, thinking about the scar on Ranger's lower abdomen that I'd always assumed had been from an appendectomy. "Why is he coming after you now? Revenge for his eye?"

"That, and possibly to tie up a loose end from North Korea. He seemed like the kind of guy who could hold a grudge."

"It seems like he knew a lot of information about you," I said as Hal pulled into the gated alley behind the townhouse. "He knew your cousin had a bail bonds company in Miami, that you have done bond enforcement and live in New Jersey, was confident enough to turn one of the people bonded out by Manuel because he assumed Manuel would ask you to get the guy if he came up here, and that you would hold Gardi in your building before transporting him back to Miami. That's pretty detailed for someone you only met once in North Korea a decade ago."

"I don't like how much he seems to know about me," Ranger said, opening the back door for me to climb out. "If he knows this much, then there is little doubt that he knows about you and Julie. I'm going to call Rachel and Ron to ask if they would consider staying in a safe house while I try to track this guy down. And I don't want you going anywhere without myself or one of my men with you. I've already had one psycho with a grudge against me come after you this summer. I don't want to make it two."

I took a deep, cleansing breath as we walked back into the townhouse, feeling sick to my stomach at the knowledge that all the effort I'd put into trying to make my life safer didn't mean shit when crazy Russians were involved.


	12. Chapter 12

I spent the next day at the Bender Street house doing HR tasks while Ranger and a small group of his men worked on tracking down the man he only knew as Vlatko. The rest of the Rangeman employees were working hard out of the second floor of the townhouse or were out doing patrols around the city to keep their accounts secure. A news helicopter had hovered over the Rangeman building several times a day since word had gotten out about the issues inside and reporters were camped out down the road. The FBI had managed to keep the polonium detail out of the news, only saying that the building was under quarantine to ensure proper decontamination after exposure to a dangerous substance. Reporters were calling constantly, looking for more details of what the substance was, how it was brought into the building, and any other information they could get about the secretive company. Ranger had sent in a written statement to the local news channels to help spread the word to account holders that the company was still running and that the integrity of the security for their homes and businesses was still intact. News anchors, especially the women, eventually started speculating on the life of the mysterious and sexy CEO of Rangeman Securities, Inc, about whom little was publicly known. Chuck, who had stopped by to tell me what I needed to do, had been run out of the townhouse because he'd started annoying the men on the second floor with questions of how many hours they'd been working and if the rules of employment and safety were still in place during this time of _crisis._

Since Ranger didn't want me to go anywhere without an escort, and I didn't want to take anyone away from their jobs, I had asked Lula to go over to my apartment and check on Briggs. I hated the idea of him being in my apartment, but I also knew I would feel bad if I kicked him out and he was murdered by Poletti. I was just about to take a break for lunch when Ranger called my cell phone.

"We just heard a call go out over the scanner. There was an explosion in your apartment," he said. "I'll take you over."

I grabbed my messenger bag and hurried to the elevator, which stopped on the second floor to let Ranger on. It took us twenty minutes to get to my apartment building, where we had to park on the street because the lot was filled with police, EMS, and fire trucks. It looked as though fire had been contained, but there was a large part of my outside wall that was missing. I felt sick as we made our way through the crowd to find the fire chief. In the distance, I could see Briggs sitting in the back of an ambulance. He was wrapped in a blanket and had an oxygen mask over his face.

"Stephanie Plum," the chief said. It wasn't a question, but a statement. He'd been to my apartment too many times for us not to know each other. "It looks like a rocket was shot in your living room window. The living room is destroyed, but the rest of your apartment is fine. Your super was able to get in there with a fire extinguisher pretty quickly. There was a guy staying there, Randy Briggs, who got out alive and mostly uninjured. Your rat didn't make it. He probably died from smoke inhalation."

I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. In that moment, I didn't care that my living room was destroyed. The whole place could have been in ashes as long as Rex had been okay. I felt the tears start to fall down my cheeks as Ranger wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him. I could hear the fire chief continuing to tell me about the damage and the cause, but I didn't care. All I could think about was the fact that I'd left Rex at the apartment with Briggs, who had already had one apartment blown up by the people after him. I didn't blame Briggs for Rex's death, but I blamed myself and whoever decided to shoot a rocket into my apartment. Ranger thanked the fire chief and guided me over to Briggs.

"I'm sorry, Stephanie," he said, pulling the mask away from his face. "I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard a big crash. I saw the fire in the living room and it was blocking the door, so I had to go out the fire escape and couldn't get your rat."

"HE WAS A HAMSTER!" I shouted at Briggs. "If you couldn't save him, at least get his species right!"

Briggs looked a little afraid of me, so Ranger pulled me back to the road and loaded me into his car.

"Your super told the fire chief that he'll call you when the apartment is cleared for your insurance claims adjuster to come in and inspect," he told me as we drove through town.

"I don't care right now," I told him as I stared out the window. "I can't believe poor Rex died in there. I left him there…" Tears poured down my cheeks again and I began to sob in earnest. Ranger reached over to hold my hand as my crying became progressively worse and eventually pulled over into an alleyway as I began to hyperventilate.

"Babe," he murmured, pulling me into his arms across the Cayenne's console. He stroked my hair as I tried to catch my breath and told me to try to take slow breaths in and out. I managed to follow his instructions after a couple of minutes and got myself under control enough to talk.

"It isn't just about Rex," I said. "It's everything. I haven't spoken to my mother in weeks, my apartment just got bombed, there is someone trying to kill you for the second time this summer, I have no idea what is going on except for what we learned from Gardi, and the fact that this nut is running around with polonium makes it even scarier. It's just overwhelming me at the moment."

Ranger continued to hold me close for a few minutes. Being in his arms in the quiet car was the most relaxed I'd felt in the past two days, and I didn't want it to end. When things were bad, I felt best when I was with Ranger. I felt safe because I always knew he'd do anything to protect me, and I worried about him less when I could see that he was fine.

"My instinct is to put you somewhere safe, like my house in Maine, but I know that's not what you want," he said, pulling back to look at me. "So I'm pulling you out of HR for now and putting you on the team helping me look for Vlatko. Neither of us are at our best when we are worrying about the other one, but at least we'll be able to focus a little better knowing we'll have each other's backs. But if I ask you to go somewhere without me or stay behind while I go ahead, will you trust me enough to do as I ask?"

It was as if he'd read my mind, and that was part of what made our relationship so good. I didn't have to say the words to everything I thought or felt. Ranger instinctually knew them. And in a way, I knew what he felt. I couldn't quite put words to the emotions, but I could feel them in everything he said and did. I nodded my agreement, feeling slightly better than I had ten minutes before. I still felt horrible about Rex and the situation with my mother, but for the moment I could feel a little better about being kept in the loop regarding Ranger's safety.

We headed up to Manhattan late Wednesday morning to check out the Gatewell Hotel. It was our only lead at that point that might help us track down Vlatko. The FBI had already checked the place out, but considering that they hadn't seemed to think Gardi's information had been worth much, they may not have pursued leads that Ranger would if he found them. The hotel staff confirmed what Gardi had told us about just staying one night. They elaborated to say that the room had been prepaid in cash by a man with a skull and flower tattoo on his neck and spoke with a slight British accent. Other than that, we had nothing.

We walked for several blocks around the hotel, attempting to figure out if Vlatko had any other link in the area. The problem was that Ranger knew next to nothing about Vlatko, including his real name. We had no way of figuring out if he had any connections to the Russian areas of the West Side. Our only hope was possibly related to the Russian Consulate. A little research via Tank told us there was a trade show for Russian vodka makers going on and that a cocktail party was being held at five that afternoon at the consulate. The problem was that we couldn't just walk in on our own. We needed someone to invite us.

"Those two look promising," Ranger said as we took a seat at the bar in the Gatewell. He was talking about the only two other people in the bar. One was a round, balding man with an alcohol-induced red nose who looked to be in his fifties. The other man was aroud my age, good-looking with blond hair, green eyes, and an expensive Armani suit. And they were both speaking Russian.

"I'll be right back," I said, heading off to the bathroom. I was wearing black dress pants and a blue wrap blouse. It was fairly conservative at the moment, but with the help of toilet paper in my bra and some strategic adjustments of the material, followed by a wipe of lipstick and mascara, I was suddenly looking sluttier.

I headed back out to the bar to find that the older man had left, but that the younger man was still behind. I'd been planning to hit on the older man because I thought the younger guy was out of my league. He was _really_ attractive, similarly to Ranger, except Ranger was crazy enough to be in love with me. I was about to walk over to him when Ranger slipped something into my hand.

"Earpiece," he murmured. I nodded and slipped the small piece of plastic into my right ear before I took a seat to the man.

"How's it going?" I asked him. "I'm Stephanie."

"I'm Dmitri," he replied, giving me a disinterested once over. "And I do not have sex with women."

"What makes you think I want to have sex with you? I was just coming over to chat."

"You are not a prostitute?"

I saw Ranger's lips twitch at the other end of the bar. He could hear the conversation over the ear piece.

"No, I'm not a prostitute, but do you see that guy at the end of the bar?" I asked him, and Dmitri's eyes immediately lit up when they landed on Ranger. "He's a friend of mine, and he doesn't like sex with women either."

Ranger, who had been focused on his glass of vodka, paused ever so slightly as he lifted the glass to his lips. As a raging heterosexual, I was sure the idea of flirting with a man wasn't high on Ranger's list of desirable activities, but desperate times called for extreme measures.

"Are you sure about that?" Dmitri asked. "He doesn't look gay."

"Are you kidding? Look at that hair, that skin, those clothes. Straight men don't look like that all by themselves."

Dmitri nodded in agreement. "Will you introduce me?"

I waved Ranger over to us. He picked up his vodka and came down to sit on the other side of Dmitri. I struggled to keep a smile off my face as I read Ranger's body language. He knew exactly what I was planning, and he didn't like it at all.

"Carlos, this is Dmitri. I thought you guys might like to meet," I said with an exaggerated wink. Love or not, I was pretty sure Ranger was contemplating my death in that moment. He extended his hand and shook Dmitri's, letting his hand slide loosely as they released their grip. I ordered a vodka rocks from the bartender while Dmitri chatted Ranger up, asking him where he was from and what he did. Ranger told him he was from Chicago and he owned a tech company before turning the conversation back to Dmitri, who turned out to be a vodka magnate from St. Petersburg in town for a trade show. Not exactly news to us.

"I have to leave. I have a party at the consulate to attend at five o'clock," he said, giving Ranger a look of longing after checking the time on his watch. "Can I see you later?"

"We have to leave town this evening," Ranger said. "I need to take her back home and get back to Philadelphia for the rest of my business trip. I'm only in New York for today."

"That's too bad," I moaned. "You guys really seem to be hitting it off. I hate for your time together to be cut short."

"Yes, it is too bad," Ranger commented as he finished his vodka and kept eye contact with Dmitri. Even though I knew he was uncomfortable, Ranger was doing a pretty good job at feigning interest in the Russian.

"Why don't you accompany me to this party?" Dmitri asked, running a finger along Ranger's hand. "It's for the trade show."

"I _love_ vodka!" I said, trying my best to make sure that I got invited as well. Dmitri glanced over at me and I could tell he was having an internal debate about whether to invite a third wheel.

"You could both come," he said, his smile looking a little forced. "Perhaps _we_ can leave a little early and come back to the hotel before you need to leave town."

I bit my lip as Ranger smiled at the idea of coming back to the man's hotel room. I supposed this must what it was like for Ranger when I'd flirted with undesirablemen in the past to get somewhere. Ranger's usual response was to intimidate the answer out of someone, but it wasn't an option in this case. We needed this guy to get us access to the consulate and we'd have to play the game until we were back on the street because if we ran into trouble on the inside, we were technically on Russian soil, and therefore screwed.

Before I knew it, Ranger and I were inside the Russian Consulate with Dmitri. I milled around the room for the next hour sipping a vodka while Ranger was trapped next to Dmitri, who followed him every time he made to slip away. I tried to keep myself invisible as I walked around the room looking for a man who matched Vlatko's description, which wasn't difficult given the presence of several high-priced call girls that had accompanied some of the other vodka makers to the party. I was at the opposite end of the room when I heard someone say "Viktor! Come here please."

I turned around to see Vlatko, who looked like he had been headed towards the door, turn around to face the man who had yelled. He had blond hair and could have passed for a college student if you didn't look too closely at him. He walked over to the man, who introduced him to a wealthy-looking couple. "This is Viktor Volkov. He is a representative of the Russian Ministry for Industry and Trade. He is here for the international trade show that will be happening later this week in Atlantic City."

Vlatko greeted the couple before excusing himself, saying he had another commitment to get to and bid the group goodbye. I attempted to follow him, but was blocked by a group of laughing women, all of whom had drank way too much vodka. In the few seconds it took me to get around the group, I lost sight of him. As I walked back to where Ranger and Dmitri were still standing and talking, each with a glass in hand, I scanned the room to see if Vlatko was still there, but didn't see him. Remembering that I still had my ear piece in, I whispered quietly to Ranger.

"I just saw Vlatko. He was making his way to the front door, but I lost him. I'll come rescue you from Dmitri and we can see if we can get outside."

I grabbed a fresh glass of vodka and tossed half of it back, trying not to gag as it burned its way down my esophagus. I walked unsteadily and tried to appear as green as possible as I approached the men.

"Carlos, I think I drank too much," I said, holding my stomach. "I think I need to leave."

Dmitri looked down his nose at me, clearly annoyed that I couldn't hold my liquor and was going to interrupt his date. "Shall we call you a cab?"

"She lives in New Jersey," Ranger said, putting an arm around my waist. "I should take her home. I'm sorry we won't get to see more of each other. Really sorry."

We tried to shake Dmitri as we headed to the front door, but he insisted on walking us back to our car. The delay we'd experienced had resulted in us losing sight of Vlatko, who could have either made off on foot or gotten into a car and pulled away. Our car was parked in a lot a block away from the Gatewell, so I had to keep up the drunk act up for three blocks while Dmitri kept Ranger engaged in conversation, clearly trying to think of a way to ditch me in a way that Ranger would approve of so that he could still get laid. When we reached the car, Ranger helped me get into the passenger seat while Dmitri watched on.

"Is there any chance of seeing you before you leave town? I'll be in the area for the rest of the week for the trade show in Atlantic City. Perhaps I can see you then?"

"I have to go back to Chicago tomorrow afternoon," Ranger replied. "Any plans to be in Chicago?"

Dmitri shook his head. "None, unfortunately. But in case something happens and you can come, the show is at the Roland Atlantic Hotel. I'll be staying there starting Friday."

Ranger nodded and shut my door, muffling the sounds of the conversation that was cut short when Dmitri pinned Ranger against the Porsche and kissed him. I couldn't see their faces well because of how low the Porsche sat, but I had a clear view of Dmitri's hand on Ranger's ass, which slid around to the front of his trousers. I was torn between horror and hilarity, but hadn't been able to reach either point before Ranger extricated himself from Dmitri's grip . He said something quietly before walking around to the driver's side of the car, leaving Dmitri standing there with an impressive erection and a look of pure lust plastered on his face. Ranger's expression was neutral was we pulled out of the lot.

"Please tell me you learned something that made me getting groped and kissed by a man worth it. Otherwise, I'm going to drive this car into the river," he said as we headed towards the tunnel.

"He's using the cover of Viktor Volkov, a Russian Ministry delegate for Industry and Trade. He's going to be at the same trade show as Dmitri. Maybe you two can hook up after all," I said, not looking in Ranger's direction as I fought a smile. "I'm not going to lie, you two kissing was kind of hot."

Ranger said nothing as we made our way out of New York, though he got off the turnpike in Newark and drove us through the city to a twelve-story building in one of the nicer areas of Newark. He pulled up to a gated underground garage, typed in a code, and the gate granted us entrance.

"What are we doing?" I asked as Ranger pulled into a spot and turned off the car. He typed out a message on his phone.

"We're taking an hour off. I don't want to risk dying on the Turnpike with the last person to have kissed me and touched my dick to be a Russian man," he said, getting out of the car. I followed him to an elevator at the end of the aisle, which we took to the twelfth floor.

"I have an apartment here," he told me as he unlocked unit twelve-ten. "I lived here for a while after I came back to New Jersey after the Army."

The apartment was simple, but perfect for Ranger. I didn't get to see much as Ranger pulled me behind him to the bedroom, but what I saw in the living room told me that this was where Ranger hid his personal life. Picture frames were organized along one wall of people who were clearly his family. The bedroom was done in neutral colors with a large bed, desk, chair and a bookcase. But as Ranger pressed his body into mine, I let go of my curiosity and took comfort in his hands on my body. We fell back onto the bed, hungrily tearing at each other's clothing. We hadn't had sex since the polonium incident at Rangeman, as he'd been working twenty hour days since then. It didn't take long for us both to reach our orgasms. Clearly, we'd needed this. I was glad that I'd taken the step of getting back on the Pill the month before so that we hadn't needed to worry about stopping for a condom or that we might become parents in nine months' time. We laid together for the rest of our hour off, feeling relaxed for the first time in several days. We were away from Bender Street, the FBI, bombed apartments, and polonium scares. My mind went to Rex and I felt tears prick my eyes, still unable to believe that my hamster was dead. The fire chief had called to ask if I'd wanted Rex's body. I'd told him no, because there was no way I could have thrown him in the garbage and I didn't have anywhere to bury him.

"Tank's doing research on the name Viktor Volkov," Ranger told me, reading a message on his phone. "It's undoubtedly a cover, but it's the only thing we have to go on until the trade show this weekend. He also said the FBI is almost done with the building and we can start moving back in tomorrow. That's going to require my attention, so we'll have to wait until Friday to go to Atlantic City. I have a feeling he has a target there. Hopefully we'll find something in the meantime."

As we were getting redressed, Ranger's cell phone rang. I could see from the display that it was his mother. She'd called him three times a day since the word had gotten out about the polonium attack. She had been concerned about Ranger and the fact that Aurelia could have been there during the incident. She had questioned whether Aurelia should return to living at Rangeman, which had started a fight with Aurelia. Ranger had assured his mother that his kind of thing was unlikely to ever happen again and that there were already precautions being set up to ensure it couldn't happen. From the last call I'd overheard, his mother had settled down and was willing to allow Aurelia to come back out of fear that Aurelia would run away and try to get back on her own. As we rode down the elevator to the parking garage, I thought about my own mother, who hadn't called even after my apartment had been bombed. Granted, it was easy enough to find out whether I'd been there or if anyone had been injured, but it still hurt that she hadn't called me. Had she reached a point where she was done bothering with me, or was she ashamed of how she'd behaved? Somehow, Ranger and I had managed to reverse our roles with our mothers. Maybe I'd go over to her house once Vlatko was gone to see how things were. Hopefully it wasn't too late to try to fix things between us.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: This chapter is going to be from Ranger's POV.**

"Your men couldn't be bothered to pick up after themselves?" I asked Tom Patterson, the Agent-in-Charge from the FBI. We were standing in the middle of my closet looking over the clothes strewn all over the floor and dresser.

"The hazmat crew had to check clothes for signs of polonium," Patterson said with an unapologetic shrug before heading back out of the apartment. "And you were in such a hurry to get back here that they had to do it quickly."

Aurelia's and Ella and Louis's apartments had been treated with a little more respect than mine, but the rest of them had been searched more thoroughly than necessary, which told me that the FBI had taken advantage of the situation and had tried to find something that would lead to arrests, harm to my professional reputation, and possibly the termination of several government contracts. On three different occasions in the past, all at separate offices, they'd tried to get an agent hired in an attempt to dig up something on me. They had failed then and now because I wasn't a complete idiot. My systems for doing background checks outstripped the FBI's by far. They hadn't been able to build a good enough cover story to fool me yet. I also had rules about what could be kept at the office and how it was supposed to be stored. Lockdown procedures not only shut down the ventilation and computer systems, but also provided an extra layer of security for our safes. There was a weapons safe on each floor along with an additional safe on the fifth floor that was used to store items that were illegal or questionable, such as unregistered weapons, stun guns, equipment needed to create fake credentials, keys and access codes for the various safe houses, and at least $100,000 in cash. That safe was only known to the field staff and only able to be accessed by myself, Tank, and the shift supervisors. If anything was out of the safe, it was on or near you at all times.

As I escorted the last of the FBI agents out of the building, I saw Ella and Louis handing out assignments to the cleaning crew, who were going to be paid double their usual fees to get the building completely cleaned and operational within twenty-four hours. A limited amount of administrative staff were still working out of the second floor at the Bender Street site to ensure payroll and benefits were processed for the week. Stephanie and Tank were also there doing research on the name Viktor Volkov and the trade show that was coming to Atlantic City on Friday to determine Vlatko's possible targets. Meanwhile, I was due to meet with my lawyer downtown for a discussion about whether he expected any lawsuits from clients who might feel their security had been compromised by the incident.

The meeting with my lawyer lasted forty-five minutes, and I was planning to go back to Bender Street to see what headway Stephanie and Tank had made on their research. I was about to climb in my car when I saw something sitting on the passenger seat. I had activated the alarm when I'd left the car, but it had been deactivated in the interim. I immediately began checking the undercarriage for explosives, but found none. I cautiously opened the passenger side door and looked closely at the item on the seat. I was almost certain that it was a human heart, and considering there was blood staining the upholstery, I was sure it was fresh. I had been about to call the FBI when my phone dinged with a text message.

 _I'll have Stephanie's next._

A cold chill went through me as I looked around, but I knew I wouldn't see Vlatko. There were too many different cars and buildings that he could have accessed in order to watch me get out to my car. Before I had a chance to respond, I received another message.

 _Or maybe your pretty little daughter, Julie? Perhaps I'll go with both. Double my pleasure and your pain. I will see you soon, Manoso._

I knew there was no point in attempting to track the phone, which was undoubtedly a prepaid cell phone that he'd dump immediately. I called Miami get to the Martines moved to my apartment in the Rangeman building with the instructions that no one was to leave it until I gave them the all clear, then I called Tank to say that Stephanie wasn't to leave the house unless I said so. My last call was to the FBI. Tom Patterson showed up on the scene twenty minutes after the Trenton Police had secured the crime scene. I spent an hour talking to him while my car was processed and impounded for more evidence collection before I was able to go back to Bender Street.

"What's going on?" Stephanie asked as soon as she saw me. "I asked Tank if we could go get food and he said I'm not allowed to leave."

I filled her in on the heart and the threats via text message, watching her complexion go pale. "That's just great," she finally said, sitting down in her chair and putting her head between her knees. "Just what I wanted to hear before lunch."

I sent her up to the third floor with the promise of joining her in a few minutes. I needed time alone with Tank. His research had turned up a Viktor Volkov in Atlantic City who worked in heating and air conditioning and had apparently had his identity stolen, since the picture on his driver's license showed a man with two eyes. He also handed me a list of seven possible targets for Vlatko, with General Maksim Semov at the top of the list. Semov was due to arrive at the hotel the next morning, where he had the entire tenth floor to himself. He was a ruthless, ambitious man who had made a lot of enemies, including his best friend, the president of Russia. I liked him for the target, so I told Tank to talk to the FBI about the situation and to work on getting teams in place at the hotel to watch for both Vlatko and Semov. I would plan on leaving for Atlantic City that evening, but first I had to convince Stephanie to stay behind.

I found her in the kitchen eating macaroni and cheese from a microwaveable carton. When Stephanie was stressed, she ate carbohydrates and sugar. I'd long ago accepted that I would never be able to convince her to eat healthier.

"I need to go to Atlantic City to follow up on the leads you and Tank found," I told her. "I need to get rid of Vlatko fast before he not only hurts a lot of other people, but tries to come after you or Julie."

"When are we leaving?"

" _I_ am leaving in a few minutes. You are staying here."

"I don't think so," she said, putting her food down on the counter and her hands on her hips. "I'm not staying behind when you're going after this lunatic. I want to be there. I can help. I'm tired of this guy threatening us. You can't actually expect me to sit here twiddling my thumbs, can you?"

I took a deep breath and counted to five before answering. She would be a help there, but she would also be a hindrance. I would be preoccupied with her safety, which could result in a lot of other people getting hurt. Vlatko had found out in North Korea that physical or psychological torture didn't work well on me, but he had done enough research into my life in the past decade to learn that he could emotionally torture me by going after people I cared about, especially the women in my life. I had distanced myself from my family during my time in the Army, only letting myself get closer to Aurelia again once I had made it safely home. It hadn't been until Stephanie had entered my life that I'd realized how much I cherished the love of a woman, whether it was my mother, grandmothers, sisters, daughter, or the love of my life. I walked over and wrapped my arms around Stephanie's waist, pulling her against me so that I could nuzzle her forehead.

"You promised me that if I asked you to stay behind, you'd do it," I reminded her. "I need you to stay here. I can't keep you safe and do what I need to do at the same time. There are close to seven hundred people going to that convention and they could all die if Vlatko manages to get his polonium canister into the hotel's ventilation system. I don't want to risk being distracted by trying to keep you safe and getting us all killed in the process."

I heard Stephanie blow out a frustrated sigh. "I know you're right, but I still don't like the idea of staying here. I want to see this go down myself."

Even if I thought I could keep her safe, I didn't want her to see me kill Vlatko. If I had it my way, he was going to die slowly and painfully, the way Bruce McCready would have died if the new treatment the doctors had used hadn't been successful. I didn't want Stephanie exposed to that side of me. She had seen me kill in defensive moves, but never offensively. I didn't want her to replay the images of the torture techniques over and over in her head for years to come the way I had. I didn't want her soul to be damaged the way mine was.

I kissed her goodbye and promised to check in later once I'd had a chance to check out the real Viktor Volkov and the Roland Atlantic Hotel. I updated the first team—Jose Velez, Juan Rodriguez, Ryan Thompson, Ramon Jones, Hector Gutierrez, and Hal—and we set out for Atlantic City within the hour. Hal and I were going to the Volkov house while the rest of the group was setting up at the hotel. I had decided to leave Tank behind to stay with Stephanie because I was afraid that Vlatko would try to make a move on her soon. I trusted my men to protect her, but Stephanie was resourceful and intelligent and had gotten away from many of them in the past. Hal still hadn't lived down the time when Stephanie had stunned him with his own stun gun in order to get out of my building nearly three years ago. But I was sure she couldn't get away from Tank. He knew all of her tricks.

I found the real Viktor Volkov laid out on his bedroom floor inside a body bag, covered in lime and minus his heart. The van registered in his name as also missing, which told me that Vlatko was likely trying to get into the hotel under the guise of a HVAC technician. His big mistake had been trusting Emilio Gardi with trying to place the canister in the vent at Rangeman. The old saying of "if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself" rang especially true in assassination plots.

The FBI and my men had been working on getting tapped into the security system at the hotel and were going floor by floor to check the mechanical rooms for signs of tampering with the ventilation system. So far, it didn't look as though Vlatko had gotten set up yet. He hadn't even checked into the hotel, where he'd booked a room in Volkov's name. I doubted he would make his move until sometime the next morning, given that he couldn't risk the canister being found by leaving it out in the open too long. But this time tonight would allow me a chance to scope out the entire place before it became too crowded the next day.

I was wearing an earbud that connected me to Hector and Hal and had just told them that the lobby was clear when I heard someone yelling my name.

"Carlos!"

Fuck me, it was Dmitri. How could I have forgotten about him? I turned around to see the blond Russian running up the stairs behind me, looking as though he'd just won the lottery.

"Hello, Dmitri," I said, working on an excuse as to why I was there and not back in Chicago the way I'd said I would be.

"I thought you could not make it," he commented, running a hand along the side of my face. It took everything I had in me not to flinch back, knowing full well that the entire encounter was being transmitted visually to several of my employees and FBI agents and that the audio would be heard by Hal and Hector.

"Plans changed," I said. I'd told him I worked in technology, but I hadn't been specific, so that was how I was going to explain my presence. "I received a call that the hotel is interested in a new surveillance system, so I'm running through with a team doing checks so that I can make better recommendations."

"Then it is meant to be," Dmitri said. "We were meant to meet again. Are you busy tonight? I would like to have dinner with you."

"I can't," I said, taking a step up away from him. "I'm working through the evening trying to get this system assessed before the crowds start arriving for the convention in the morning."

"Well then, let us skip dinner and go straight to the best part," Dmitri said, his eyes resting on my crotch. "I am staying in room 719. Come to my room when you are finished working. I will wait up for you."

Rangeman had rooms 718 and 720, and the FBI were in 722 and 724, all right across the hall from Dmitri, and there was no chance of moving. The rest of the rooms were booked solid because of Semov commandeering the entire tenth floor during a convention. Apparently God had decided it was Screw with Carlos Day.

"If I can, I will," I said, turning on my heel and hurrying up the stairs. It has been dead silent on the earbud, which wasn't comforting. Hal had an annoying habit of chewing gum and it could almost always be heard smacking, and Hector tended to hum to himself. I hurried up to the seventh floor and slipped into my room. Hector, Hal and Jose were there watching video feeds and looking at the blue prints for the hotel.

"Here I always thought you were straight as an arrow —sexually, anyway—and it turns out you swing both ways," Hector commented with a shit-eating grin. "I may have a chance with you after all."

Hal and Jose kept their faces buried in their work, knowing better than to comment. Hector and I had gone back to our school days in Newark, so he took more chances with his life and job than most of them did.

"He was my way into the Russian consulate in New York," I told the room. "Stephanie was supposed to have been the one to flirt with him and get us invited to the cocktail party, but when it turned out that the guy was gay, I got stuck with the job instead."

"How are you going to avoid this guy when he's right across the hall?" Hal asked, not quite meeting my gaze.

"I'll figure something out," I said, turning conversation back to work as I rolled out the blue prints for the convention level of the hotel.

I managed to stay in my room for most of the night, but when Ryan thought he'd had a Vlatko sighting, I'd left to go out to the mezzanine level. By the time I'd gotten there, the visual had been lost. I was headed back to the room, frustrated that we hadn't been able to stay up with Vlatko when the door to 719 opened up and Dmitri looked out at me.

"You did not tell me you were right across the hall," he said, looking suspicious.

"I hadn't known what room number I was in when I talked to you," I told him. "My team had checked in and I had gone directly to meet with the head of hotel security. I was just finishing my last check for the night."

"Then come inside," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his room.

Dmitri's room looked almost exactly like mine, though it was a mirror image. He had a suitcase open on a chair in the corner and the bed was still made. He turned around and pushed me against the wall, pressing his body into mine. I told myself to relax when my instinct was to push him away. I needed to get him out of the way in order to not detract from what I needed to do. Plus, I wasn't excited about the idea of him realizing that I'd used him to spy on people in a foreign country's embassy. It reeked of problems that I couldn't afford right now.

"I need a drink first," I told him as his lips nearly touched mine. "It's been a long day, and I need to relax."

Dmitri looked a little put-out, but walked over to the minibar. I was surprised when he pulled out bottles of tequila.

"Aren't you a vodka man?"

"I am, but I prefer tequila when I want to get wild," he said, nuzzling my neck as he placed a bottle in my hand. I told myself that as a thank you to Stephanie for not fighting me on staying back in Trenton, I would give her a blow-by-blow account of what happened with Dmitri. I knew she'd find it funny, so I planned to give her a good story.

Dmitri might have been able to hold his vodka, but he couldn't hold his tequila. By the third round, he was barely able to walk and slurring his words so much that I wasn't sure if he was speaking English or if he'd slipped into Russian. We had been sitting on the couch along the far wall while he had talked about all of the places he'd travelled for vodka sales. He had kept inching closer to me, touching my leg and running a hand through my hair. I'd managed to avoid almost every kiss he'd tried to give me, though there had been two occasions when he'd surprised me. As Dmitri continued to put the moves on me, I thought about all of the times when I'd been in his position with various women, including Stephanie, just because I'd wanted to get laid. I mentally apologized to each and every one of them whose name I could remember as I pressed more tequila on Dmitri.

"I am done," Dmitri said after his fourth tequila. "I need to be able to stay awake. I have _biiiiig_ plans for you, Carlos."

I'd been able to feel his erection through his clothes when he'd pressed himself up against me earlier, so I knew that he was lying about the big. And did he honestly think that I would be a bottom? Didn't I exude power and control and Latin _machismo_? I watched as he dug through his suitcase and pulled out lube and a packet of condoms, trying to figure out what I was going to get out of the situation. I'd planned on him passing out from the tequila, but he had stopped himself before that point. My next plan was more elaborate, but should work to satisfy him. He was a slightly suspicious man, but he was also a desperate one. He would be busy tomorrow trying to function at the convention with a hangover, giving me time to take care of Vlatko and get the hell out of town before he sought me out for another night.

"Come here, sexy," he whispered.

If God were truly merciful, He would have struck me dead where I stood. But no lightning bolts appeared.

Doing what I knew best, I held his gaze as I began stripping, figuring the scene would be easier to set up if he was at least aware of us both having been naked at some point. Dmitri, who had nearly passed out after I'd taken my shirt off, actually ripped his own shirt in his haste to undress, sending buttons flying around the room. I hadn't even gotten my underwear off by time he'd gotten completely naked and was waiting for me. The man had the smallest dick I'd ever seen, and I could tell that he was hard, so it made me wonder what it looked like normally. Did it go back into his scrotum like a turtle hiding in its shell?

"Are you a top or bottom?" he asked.

"I'm always on top," I said, spinning him around and bending him over the bed. Dmitri groaned with excitement and I made sure that he saw me reach for the lube and the condoms he'd left on the bed while I used my other hand to press hard into the pressure points around his neck, which made him pass out a few seconds later. Show time.

I pulled the brown duvet down on the bed and smeared some of the lube onto the cream-colored sheets. I then dragged Dmitri up to lie on a pillow next to the wet spot. I poured lube directly on him before pulling the sheet up over his naked body. I grabbed two condoms from the pack and took them into the bathroom. Glancing around, I found a bottle of shampoo whose substances looked real enough to put into the tips. If Dmitri woke up without any memory of having sex with me, I figured he look for the evidence. Once I had two condoms set up, I smeared them both with lube before throwing them and the wrappers into the trash can by the bed. I hurriedly dressed and went back across the hall to find that the rest of the group had gathered to discuss strategy for the next day.

"What did you do with your admirer?" Hector asked.

"Got him drunk, then knocked him out. He won't be waking up until morning."

I checked in with Stephanie, who was restless and nervous up in the loft. I told her everything was fine so far at the hotel, and that I'd talk to her in the morning. I followed up with Tank, who told me that Stephanie hadn't made any attempts to leave. I was able to relax and sleep for a few hours knowing that Stephanie was safe back in Trenton.

When my cell phone rang at six the next morning, I figured it was Tank calling to update me on the FBI's progress. I had been right about it being Tank, but wrong about his report.

"Stephanie escaped," he said when I answered, and I could tell he was running as he spoke.

"How?"

"She came into the monitoring room about fifteen minutes ago to ask if I'd heard from you. I told her no and while we were talking, the building monitors went blank. She said she was going back upstairs and I was trying to figure out what was wrong. I found a cable unhooked and once I got the screen back up, I realized that there was a car missing. She must have pulled the cable so she could get out without me seeing her."

"Check her apartment, Tasty Pastry, Rangeman, her parents' house, and with Lula and Connie," I said. "Let me know when you have her."

I called Stephanie's cell phone and she answered on the second ring. "What's up?"

"You know what's up," I said quietly. "You left the house after I told you not to."

"I'll be fine, Ranger. Vlatko is in Atlantic City, so I should be able to move around Trenton without Tank hovering over me. Besides, I'm just running home to get some new clothes and to make sure Briggs isn't fingering my underwear before I stop at Tasty Pastry. I'll go straight back afterwards, I promise."

"Wait for Tank at your apartment building," I said. "Don't go in without him."

"Randy's there," she replied. "I doubt he'd have let Vlatko in. He's like rabid raccoon guarding the place."

"Just do as I say."

"Excuse me?" Stephanie asked, her tone telling me that I'd pissed her off. "I'm not one of your employees—"

"Actually, you _are_ one of my employees," I reminded her. "And more importantly, you're my girlfriend. As both your boss and your boyfriend, I'm asking you to wait for Tank. Please."

I knew I had her with _please._ She couldn't resist when I actually bothered to use _please_ with a request.

"Fine," she groaned. "I'll wait."

I called Tank to give him an update before taking a quick shower and getting dressed. I had just poured myself a cup of coffee when my phone rang again.

"I got to Stephanie's apartment and found the SUV in the parking lot, empty. Her purse and phone were still inside. I went up to her apartment and found Briggs dead in her bed with his throat slit."

Vlatko had slipped back to Trenton after he realized that I was in Atlantic City looking for him, and now he had Stephanie, but where would he take her?

"Did the real Volkov have any other properties?" I asked, grabbing keys to one of the SUVs and indicating that Hal should do the same.

"He has a hunting property in the Pine Barrens," Tank replied. "I'll text you the address."

I sent Hal over to Volkov's house on the off-chance that he might try to take Stephanie there while I headed north out of Atlantic City, waiting on word from Tank about the other property. A cabin in the Pine Barrens would be an ideal place to torture someone before killing them. Isolated, so no one would hear her screams. My stomach was in knots as I put my foot to the floor. Tank called me as I reached the city limits to give me the address, telling me that he was headed that way as well. The property was on a small lake about halfway between Trenton and Atlantic City, meaning it would take about forty minutes for both of us to get there. I planned to make it in twenty-five, tops.

I estimated I was about fifteen miles from the property when my indicated that I had received an email from an address that I suspected belonged to Vlatko.

 _Would you like to see her die?_

There was also a link, which I followed with my mobile browser. It took me to a live-streaming web page, where I could see Stephanie tied to the headboard of an old-fashioned bed. She was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt and she had a bloodied nose. She was pulling at her restraints and yelling for someone to help her. I put the phone in the dash holster so that I could flick my eyes between the phone and the road.

"I see you are watching us, Manoso," Vlatko said, appearing on the screen. He hadn't bothered to put a patch over his missing eye, but left the scarred, empty socket exposed, undoubtedly in an effort to intimidate Stephanie. "I knew you couldn't resist."

I sped up, pulling onto a smaller road that would lead me to the small, unincorporated town.

"I must say I'm surprised by your choice in women," Vlatko continued, walking to stand over Stephanie. "You are a good-looking man, successful, charming, talented. She is very ordinary and plain. There's absolutely nothing remarkable about her."

"Hey, asshole," Stephanie said, pausing in her efforts to free herself. "I'm not _that ordinary_. I get caught up with maniacs like you more often than anyone could actually believe, I've had more cars destroyed than a demolition derby, and I'm a great liar."

How could you not love a woman who was going to argue with her kidnapper about his assumption that she was ordinary?

"But that is beside the point," Vlatko said, brandishing a knife that he pulled out of a holster on his waist band. "I have work to do."

Stephanie began screaming as Vlatko ran the knife tip along one of her legs. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body as I drove, praying that I could get to her before she was seriously injured.

"Should I kill you and get it over with, or should I have some fun with you first?" Vlatko asked, sliding the hem of her t-shirt shirt up with one finger.

The tone of Stephanie's screams began turning into sobs as she realized that he was intending to rape her before killing her. I nearly threw up when I saw Vlatko bend over and run his tongue from the waist of Stephanie's pants to her navel. She was crying and begging him to let her go by that point, but he ignored her cries and for a bone-chilling second, I thought he was going to stab her. Instead, he used the knife to cut open her shirt, revealing her bare chest and abdomen. I heard Vlatko blow out an exasperated sight and he shook his head.

"You call these breasts?"

I managed to reach the lake as Vlatko began cutting Stephanie's pants off, but the cabin was on the other side. I saw Tank's headlights in my rearview mirror, so I drove another mile around the lake before stopping a half mile from the cabin. I grabbed my phone and ran towards the cabin. Tank caught up with me after a few seconds. Vlakto had removed Stephanie's underwear by that point, leaving her completely naked on the bed. He was still dressed, thankfully, but was now laying his body on top of hers, running his tongue over her as she screamed. I was reassured that I was in the right place as I heard her muffled screams also come from the cabin.

"Check for explosives," I whispered as we approached the cabin. I turned the volume off on my phone as I peeked into a window across from the bed. Vlatko couldn't see me because his back was facing me, but Stephanie could. I saw a flash of relief cross her face before I headed towards the door.

Tank came around the side of the cabin and gave me the all clear signal.

"You get Stephanie out of here," I told him. "I'll take care of Vlatko."

Tank nodded, kicked in the door, and we rushed the room. Vlatko leaped off the side of the bed and lunged for me, grazing my arm with the knife he'd had in his other hand. We rolled around on the floor, each of us struggling to get the upper hand. I hit Vlakto in his missing eye socket, making him grunt in pain. As I reached for the gun I'd dropped on the floor, Vlatko stuck his knife through my right hand, pinning it to the floor inches from my gun. The pain was terrible, and as I went to hit him with the other arm, a shot rang out. Blood flew out of the left side of Vlatko's head and he fell with the momentum of the bullet. He lay spread eagle next to me on the ground, his eyes open. I looked over to see Tank standing three feet away, his gun drawn. Stephanie was standing behind him, wrapped in the blanket from the bed. She hurried over to me and knelt beside me.

"Oh my God," she said, looking at my hand.

"I'm fine, babe," I told her, reaching over to touch her with my free hand. "It's fine."

Tank knelt down next to Stephanie. "What do you want to do?"

"Pull it straight out," I said. "That'll limit the damage."

"The FBI, local police, and EMS are on their way," Tank told me as he quickly pulled the knife out of the floor board and through my hand. I groaned loudly from the pain that coursed through me as the knife was removed, but felt some relief once I was free of it. While Tank ran to the cars to fetch a first aid kit, I sat up next to Stephanie and wrapped my arm around her, painfully aware that the slice of Vlatko's knife had gone into my left arm. Why couldn't it have all been on the same arm?

"How are you doing?" I asked her, pulling her close.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm okay. You got here in time."

"I wish I'd gotten here before he'd had the chance to get as far as he had."

"It could have been worse," she said, and when she spoke, I wasn't sure if she was trying to reassure me or herself. "He didn't get a chance to rape me, and he didn't kill me or hurt me, except for my nose. He hit me when I got out of my car. I don't know if it's broken or not."

You didn't have to be a doctor to see that her beautiful nose was broken, but I didn't care. She was alive and safe, and Vlatko was dead.

We arrived back at the Rangeman building shortly before five that afternoon, having spent the morning and most of the afternoon at the hospital. We'd given our statements to the FBI and had each been treated for our injuries. I'd lost count on the number of stitches I'd needed in my hand and arm, and dreaded the thought of the physical therapy I'd need for my hand.

"This has to have been the worst week of my life," Stephanie commented as she collapsed on the bed. "Someone tries to kill us all with radioactive poisoning, my apartment gets bombed, my hamster dies, I get kidnapped, Randy Briggs was murdered, and you got a knife through your hand."

"You forgot about Dmitri," I told her. "Who I ran into at the hotel, by the way."

Stephanie sat up quickly. "I didn't even think about that. What did you do?"

Before I could tell her the story, the phone rang from the bedside table. The line indicating it was the front desk.

"Helen Plum is here asking to see Stephanie," Lamar said.

"Send her up."

"Send who up?" Stephanie asked.

"Your mother," I told her. "You two need to talk."

I sent Stephanie to answer the door while I headed to the shower. I wanted to be able to get cleaned up and to give them privacy to talk, especially since part of the problem had been Stephanie's relationship with me. I wondered what Helen had come to say to her. My hope was that she would apologize for her behavior. My fear was that she was going to tell Stephanie she had told her so and that this was one more reason why she shouldn't be with me. I wasn't worried that Stephanie would leave me; I knew she was as invested in this relationship as I was. But i knew it would hurt her even more to hear her mother say something like that and it would continue the silence between them.

Stephanie came into the dressing room a few minutes after I'd gotten out of the shower to find me struggling to get dressed without the use of my right hand and slightly limited movement of my left arm. She immediately came over and helped me get my pants on.

"My mother wants to talk to you for a minute," she said, pulling a t-shirt over my head. I didn't ask why, but hoped that Stephanie's calm demeanor was an indicator of what I could expect in my conversation with Helen.

I walked out to the living room, where Helen was pacing. She looked nervous when she saw me, her gaze resting on the bandages.

"How is your hand?" she asked.

"It'll be fine."

Helen took a deep breath and blew it out, reminding me so much of Stephanie that I nearly smiled. While Stephanie had inherited most of her father's Italian features, she had the same blue eyes as her mother.

"I want to apologize for how I handled the situation when Stephanie told me she was in a relationship with you. I was wrong about you, and your relationship. She loves you, and you clearly love her. And I love her, and I want her to be happy."

"You don't need to apologize to me, but I appreciate it. I know it's been hard on Stephanie since you two fought," I replied.

Helen's eyes filled with tears and she quickly wiped them away. The Plum family didn't do tears.

"Well, I'll leave you to rest. You've had a big day. But I've asked Stephanie to come to dinner tomorrow. I'd like to you come as well, if you can."

I nodded. "I'll be there."

Helen gave me a small smile and made her way towards the door, but turned around before she reached it. "Take care, Carlos. I'll see you tomorrow."

I watched her leave and waited for Stephanie to come out of the bedroom, where she had been undoubtedly eavesdropping.

"Things went well, I take it?" I asked. She nodded.

"She basically said the same things to me. I feel much better now. When Vlatko had me tied up in that bed, I was really worried that I was going to die without having made up with my mother. I hated that feeling."

I knew that feeling all too well, having lived with it in the Army. I kissed her on the forehead and guided her back to the bedroom, where we laid together on the bed. Everything was falling back into place again. The building was almost back to normal, Aurelia was due to arrive back in the morning, and everyone I cared about had made it out of the situation alive. As I took in the quiet of the apartment, I seemed to realize for the first time how cold and sterile the place had always felt, but recognized that when Stephanie was there with me, it managed to feel warm and comfortable. Like a home.

"I just remembered that I'm going to have to go back to work with Chuck on Monday morning," Stephanie said with a groan. "He's going to be unbearable after all of this."

"Would it cheer you up to know that Dmitri thinks he had sex with me?" I asked, chuckling as she shrieked with surprise.

"Tell me everything," she said excitedly, and so I did.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: The large section in italics is Stephanie having a flashback, just in case it isn't clear.**

I drummed my fingernails on my desk and watched the second hand on the clock tick by. I had skipped my lunch hour in order to be able to leave an hour early. Only one-hundred and forty more seconds until I was free. It was the last day of September, which signaled the last of leave for the HR generalist in Miami and the end of my stint as an HR assistant. I would be moving into a full-time role in Sales as of tomorrow. Chuck was mumbling to himself and clacking away on his computer, seemingly unaware that I hadn't done any sort of work for the past fifteen minutes. I imagined he was almost as happy as I was about not having to be stuck in the same room with each other every day. I nearly jumped out of my seat like a jack in the box when the minute hand landed on the twelve.

"Well, Chuck, it's been great working with you," I said, picking up my purse. "I'll see you around."

He gave me an absentminded wave, his eyes not leaving his computer screen. It was probably better that he didn't see me run out of the office anyway. I took the elevator up to the fifth floor to check in with Ranger before I left. Dillion Ruddick had called me earlier in the day to say that the contractors were finished in my apartment and that the building inspector had given approval for me to move back in. I had an insurance check burning a hole in my bank account that could now be used to buy new furniture. After Randy had been found dead in my bed, my insurance agent had told me that I could file a claim against that as well and get money for new bedroom furniture in addition to replacing the living room furniture that had been destroyed in the fire. That had been great news to me, because I'd decided that if I couldn't afford a new bed, I was going to buy a sofa with a hide-a-bed. There was no way I was sleeping in a bed where someone had been murdered.

Ranger was working at his desk, attempting to type with one hand on his wireless keyboard. He'd gone through surgery at the hospital the day of my kidnapping nearly four weeks ago and had undergone a second two weeks later. The knife had broken a several bones in his hand, but had managed to avoid hitting any major arteries. There had been some nerve damage, but the surgeon had told us that between the surgery and therapy, Ranger would likely regain most of his hand function back over the next few months, though he may experience various degrees of numbness or dull pain for the rest of his life. He wasn't expected to have any more surgeries and would be starting physical and occupational therapy within a couple of weeks. A pang of guilt swept through me as I watched him work.

"Hey," I said, taking a seat across from him. "Is that anything I can help you with?"

Ranger shook his head. "I'm almost done with it. I would have been done already if I hadn't been checking the monitor feeds from Chuck's office to see you run out the door like the place was on fire."

I gave Ranger a sheepish grin. "I don't think Chuck will miss me much either."

"He won't. I actually saw him dancing around his office after you left."

"You're kidding, right?"

A small smile played on Ranger's lips that could have indicated either amusement over the lie or the dance. There was no telling.

"Anyway, I came up here to see if you need anything. My apartment is open for business, so I'm going furniture shopping before I go home."

"Will you be back tonight?" Ranger asked.

"I'm going over to Cantori's Furniture Store in the Burg. He's needing business pretty badily, so he told me if I bought my furniture there he'd give me free, same-day delivery and set-up no matter what time of day I came in. I'll have my living room and bedroom all furnished by the time I'm ready for bed tonight, so I'll just stay there."

Ranger finished his e-mail and shut down his computer. "Are you sure you want to do this today? You could wait until the weekend."

"I'm sure," I told him. "You'd probably like your space back since we've been together so much these past four weeks. But I can come over and help you out if you need it while your hand is still healing."

"I don't need you to be a nurse for me," he replied. "I like having you here. You could just move in with me permanently and give up your lease. I imagine your landlord would be ecstatic."

I examined my fingernails while I contemplated that idea. On the one hand, I would _love_ to live in Ranger's apartment. He was very easy to live with, the sex was fantastic, and Ella's cooking, the twelve- hundred thread-count sheets, walk-in closet, and spacious bathroom were the stuff of dreams. Had things gone differently with the Vlatko situation, I would have jumped at the chance without question. But after the fight Ranger and I had the morning afterwards, I knew I needed to be more careful about the decisions I made in regards to my life with Ranger. He had been very blunt about what he would do if necessary, and his words have reverberated around my brain in the weeks since.

"Thanks, but I think I'll go back to my own place." I stood up and threw my bag over my shoulder. "After I get everything set up, I'll have you over to help me christen the new furniture."

I left Ranger in his office with a smug smile on his face, which left little doubt to the guys in the monitoring room what the topic of conversation had been.

I was waiting in the hall for the elevator when I heard Aurelia call my name. I turned to see that she and Ella were pushing empty carts down the hall, having just delivered dinner for the men. A few weeks after Aurelia had moved into the Rangeman building, we had arranged a standing Thursday night dinner together. She loved to eat and wanted to try every restaurant in Trenton. I had been willing to go to a few places I hadn't tried, but had put my foot down on a few along Stark Street that I suspected served E. coli with every meal. I had fun when I was out with her, mostly because she was one of the most genuinely kind people I'd ever met. She cared about everyone, learning the names of every single Rangeman employee and what their favorite foods were. She'd told Ella that she wanted to be fair and serve everyone's favorite meals at some point in the month. She asked about everyone's wives, girlfriends, and children. What I loved even more was that she wasn't the least bit afraid of Ranger or Hector, the two scariest people in the building. Having grown up with Ranger apparently made you immune to his stony glares, but her lack of fear of Hector amazed me, especially after she volunteered to set him up on a date with her parents' eighty-year-old neighbor Juan, the only other gay man she knew.

"Are you going anywhere tonight?" she asked. "There's nothing good on television, and I don't want to be bored."

"You can come help me pick out new furniture," I said, and couldn't help but smile as her eye lit up and she enthusiastically agreed.

"Stephanie Plum!" Michael Cantori shouted as we walked into his showroom. "Let's get you into some new furniture. What's your decorating style? Modern? Transitional? Victorian?"

My design style was somewhere between broke college student and garage sale chic, but now that I was being given a fresh start in the furniture department, I could try for something a little more adult.

I shook Michael off, telling him that if I had a question about a piece of furniture, I'd find him. As we walked around the showroom, I found the process more overwhelming than anticipated. Did I want a recliner or an easy chair? Leather or cloth? Did I need a coffee table or just end tables? Ranger's suggestion of waiting until the weekend began sounding better by the minute. Aurelia fell in love with a red leather sofa that had been marked down eighty percent in an effort to get rid of it. I was almost tempted to buy it for her, but was afraid my money would be wasted because Ranger would never let something like that in his building. I followed her into the separate area of the showroom that was devoted to the leather furniture. I took a seat on a sofa that was almost exactly like the one in Ranger's apartment and laid my head back for a moment.

" _Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked Ranger. I was sitting next to him on the couch, where he was lying with his eyes closed. I ran a hand along his chest, but he removed it almost immediately._

" _No."_

 _I watched him for a minute before getting up and heading into the kitchen to find some breakfast. Was Ranger angry with me, or just in pain? We hadn't discussed my sneaking out of the house again since he'd called me earlier the day before. This has been one of the scariest situations I'd ever been in, and I could only be grateful that Ranger and Tank were so good at what they do. The cabin where I'd been held was very isolated, with no one around for two miles in any direction. No one else would have been able to find me._

 _I sat down at the bar in the kitchen and ate a bagel with cream cheese while the coffee brewed, replaying everything that had happened yesterday in my head. What I hadn't told Ranger on the phone, because I'd known he'd really go into protective mode, was that I had wanted to check on Randy because I hadn't been able to get ahold of him. He was normally glued to his phone, so the five calls and eight text messages that had gone unanswered had me slightly worried. The possibility that Poletti's people had finally gotten to him had crossed my mind. When Tank and Ranger told me yesterday that Randy had been found dead in my bed with his throat slit, I'd been shocked to realize that I hadn't counted on Vlatko watching my apartment and possibly hurting Randy, though it still wasn't known at this time if it had been Vlatko or Poletti or one of his men who had slit Randy's throat while he slept._

 _Ranger walked into the kitchen as I was cleaning up my dishes. He filled a cup with coffee and looked over the food that Ella had left on the island, but didn't take anything. Steeling myself, I dried my hands on the kitchen towel and turned to face him._

" _Is something wrong?" I asked. "Besides your hand hurting?"_

 _He leaned against the counter and took a sip of coffee while he stared at me. Oh boy._

" _I've been awake all night running the various 'what if' scenarios in my head that would have kept me from getting to you in time yesterday. I've done this after every time I've had to come in and save you from some life-or-death situation, but it was worse this time."_

" _You don't usually have a knife shoved through your hand when you're coming to help me," I replied, hoping he might crack a small smile. No such luck._

" _My hand has nothing to do with it. He could have cut off my arm if it would have meant you were safe. It's worse because we're in a relationship now, because the man who had you was targeting me and just using you along the way to hurt me, but worst of all, I would have had to watch him rape, torture, and murder you with the knowledge that I had no way of saving you if things had gone differently."_

 _I felt a lump forming in my throat, but I did my best to talk around it. "I'm sorry, Ranger. I really am. I'd thought I would be fine. Tank mentioned that Vlatko had been spotted in Atlantic City, so I figured he would stay there for his job and that I could go check on Randy. I hadn't been able to get ahold of him and it had made me wonder if maybe Poletti's men had gotten to him."_

 _Instead of understanding, more anger seemed to appear in Ranger's demeanor._

" _If you were worried that something had happened to him, why didn't you ask Tank to send someone to your apartment? Why would you risk getting caught up in mob business with everything else going on?"_

 _Why did he always have to have the right answers?_

" _I was getting cabin fever and just wanted a break for a minute. I'd been feeling a little smothered through the whole Vlatko situation because either you or one of your men were always with me. I just wanted a few minutes to myself while I checked on Randy and went to the bakery. I figured I'd get to my apartment, find Randy wearing my underwear and having a dwarf orgy, stop at the Tasty Pastry, and be back to the house in twenty minutes. I had even expected Tank catching up to me eventually. I hadn't expected him to call you first thing. I know that asking someone to go with me would have been the smart thing, but I don't always do the smart thing. You know this about me."_

 _The look Ranger gave me sent a chill through my bones and even made me a few steps back. I was digging myself into a deeper hole with every response._

" _The Martines didn't question me when I told them that I thought Julie was at risk and that I wanted them to move into a safe place until the situation was resolved," Ranger said quietly. "My parents and siblings didn't try to sneak away from the security details I had watching them. My employees didn't turn off their GPS units or not check in with the office after every stop. Do you know why these people didn't fight me? Because they trust me. They trust my judgment and my decisions. They know that I care about their safety and they do as I ask because they care about their safety as well. But you always fight me."_

 _Ranger began pacing the kitchen floor, which was an uncharacteristic move for him. I wasn't sure if it was brought on by his anger or the pain in his hand._

" _When we talked about having a relationship back in June, we both laid out expectations for each other. You wanted me to open up to you more, and I've tried to do that. It may not be exactly what you want, but I'm still working on it. One of the expectations I had was that you be more serious about your safety, which you didn't do this week. I'm not asking a lot from you, Stephanie. In fact, I have to ask things of you that I shouldn't have to ask any sane person when it comes to protecting themselves. And that's the kicker: part of what I love about you is your willingness to take risks, your determination, and how much you are willing to do for people, but the longer I've known you, the more reckless you've become. And last night I realized that it's because I've enabled this behavior. You know that I'll go to Hell and back for you, and that there's no limit to what I'll do to protect you, so you've taken that to mean you can do anything."_

 _I put my hands on my hips pulled on my most indignant face. "That's not true! I do care about my safety. I carry my gun all the time now, even though I'm not longer in bond enforcement and don't really need it. There are have been many times when I haven't done something because it's dangerous. I have bad luck. This crap happens when I don't expect it to or when it shouldn't happen. I'll admit that there have been times—like yesterday—when I should have stayed put and didn't and it got me into a bad place, but that hasn't happened every single time. Most of time it wasn't—"_

" _I swear to God if you say it wasn't your fault, I'll throw you through the fucking window. You had plenty of fault in most of those situations, even down to carrying a gun that wasn't loaded or forgetting it altogether," Ranger interrupted angrily. He shook his head in frustration and stopped pacing. "I've been trying to figure out what I need to say or do to make you take this seriously and quit taking risks with your life, and I could think of one thing."_

" _What?"_

" _If you ever do anything like that again, I'm done."_

" _Done with what?"_

" _With our relationship," he replied, and I could hear the pain in his voice. "Because if something like this happens again, it tells me that you don't love me the way you say you do, and don't respect me or trust me enough to come to me with a problem or listen to me when I ask you to do something. And if I have to choose between being in a relationship with you and watching you risk your life unnecessarily or not having anything to do with you, but knowing that you're staying safe, then I'll choose the latter."_

 _I felt like I'd just been hit in the gut with a bowling ball. I'd had no doubt that Ranger hurt when I was in danger and that it frustrated him when I made stupid decisions, but the fact that he was willing to end our relationship in order to make me take my safety more seriously spoke volumes about his love for me. It was even deeper than I could have imagined._

 _I bit down on my lip as I felt it quiver and tears rolled down my cheeks. The idea of losing Ranger made me nauseous, and I could feel bile and the breakfast I'd just eaten threatening to leave my body. I turned around and leaned over the sink in case I ended up being sick and tried to keep myself together. I felt him come up behind me a few seconds later and wrap his arms around my waist._

" _You're the love of my life, Stephanie," he said quietly, his breath warm against my ear. "I don't want to have to live another day in on this earth without you. Please don't make me."_

"Stephanie?"

The sound of my name jolted me off the sofa. Michael was standing in front me and I'd nearly knocked him over.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You've been sitting there for a few minutes, so I wondered if this was the sofa you wanted."

"Uh, maybe," I said distractedly. "I'll get back to browsing and let you know."

I decided to move on to bedroom furniture for the moment, as there weren't as many selections to choose from. Aurelia and I did our best Goldilocks impressions and laid down on twelve different mattresses before finding one that felt absolutely amazing. Michael informed me that it was a mattress that didn't require a box spring, so I would need to get a bed with a platform. That reduced the number of beds I could choose from down to four. Given the high prices of the mattress and the options for beds, I didn't have a ton of money left over to spend on living room furniture, so I ended up buying a bed that would match my existing dresser and nightstand. I moved back into the main showroom, where I settled on an overstuffed brown sofa with a matching arm chair and a three-piece cherry table set that included a coffee table and two end tables. Michael was thrilled to have such a big sale and said the delivery guys would be at my apartment by eight that night. That gave me just under two hours to go to Wal-mart, where I spent a good portion of my paycheck on lamps, pillows, a new 40" flat screen television, a DVD player, a stand for the new electronics, and a variety of groceries.

After dropping Aurelia back at Rangeman, I was able to bribe Dillion with a twelve-pack of beer to assemble the new television stand while I directed the two burly men from Cantori's as to where to put the furniture. At one point, I stood in the entry to my kitchen watching Dillion work in the living room while the other two guys were at work in my bedroom assembling my bed. All three had serious butt crack showing, and it wasn't a pretty sight. But I couldn't complain because the all of the labor was only costing me a twelve-pack. Ranger showed up at my apartment about ten minutes after the delivery men had left. Dillion had assembled the television stand and was helping me mount the television on the metal post attached to the base. After declaring my furniture _righteous_ , Dillion gave Ranger a small salute and left with his case of beer in hand.

"Before you try out anything else, you have to come feel my new mattress," I told Ranger. I went to take him by his uninjured hand, but realized he was carrying a shopping bag.

"For your new and improved apartment," he said, handing it to me. I followed him into the bedroom, where he kicked off his shoes before stretching out on the bare mattress. I glanced inside the shopping bag and nearly squealed with excitement. There were a set of twelve-hundred thread count sheets inside, just like the ones Ranger had on his bed, but these were a sexy, crimson red that sent steamy images through my head. I looked up to find Ranger staring at me, and I realized that he must have had the same experience when he saw them. I wouldn't be able to get those sheets on the bed fast enough.

"What would you like for your birthday?" he asked me as we laid together on my new sheets a while later. I was basking in my post-coital haze and the smell of Bulgari Green and couldn't think of anything else I'd rather do.

"Forty-eight uninterrupted hours of this," I replied, snugging deeper into his chest.

"I think that can be arranged."

 _There's something to be said for dating the boss,_ I thought as Ranger and I rode the elevator at his Miami office a week later. He had informed me the day before that we were leaving Thursday night for Miami and would be working out of that office on the Friday before and the Monday after my birthday and that the weekend in between would be spent anyway I wanted. The Miami branch of Rangeman was located in a ten-story building one block away from the Miami River. The set-up was similar to the Trenton office with a few exceptions. There were two more floors of employee apartments due to the high cost of living in the area. Due to the significant number of government contracts run out of Miami because of all of the illegal guns and drugs that came in through the ports, there was a separate office for government contracts. The same thing happened with the personal security side because of all of the wealthy business executives and celebrities that either lived in or frequented the area. Residential and corporate accounts had their own control rooms because of the volume of accounts. Miami was the company's largest and most successful branch, bringing in over thirty percent of the overall business.

The décor in the Miami apartment was modern with earth tones, though the tones ran towards the lighter end of the color spectrum. There were more windows in this apartment than in Trenton, all of which ran floor-to-ceiling and gave a spectacular view of the city. Ranger had eliminated the need for more than a carry-on by keeping a small, but varied wardrobe in the walk-in closets at each of his apartments. It was almost one in the morning by the time we'd gotten there, so I'd intended to just fall into bed, prepared for at least one round of sex before going to sleep, but after watching Ranger struggle slightly to undress with his injured hand sent waves of guilt through me and wiped out any desire I'd had. I decided to unpack my bags and hang up my clothes so that it didn't look like I'd slept in them all night, hoping that he would be asleep by the time I went to climb in bed. When I found him still awake fifteen minutes later, I told him I was exhausted and pretended to fall quickly to sleep.

"I'm ready for my tour, boss," I told Ranger the next morning as we finished up breakfast.

"It'll have to be a verbal one," he replied. "I have a meeting in ten minutes. The first floor has the lobby, HR, Sales and two conference rooms. Personal Security offices are on the second floor. The Contract office is on the third floor, and the monitoring rooms for the residential and corporate accounts make up the fourth floor. Five and up are private apartments. You'll be with Mel Jones on the first floor. My office is on the third floor, but you won't be able to see me there. We have to restrict access to that office so that only people with approved government clearances can come in. If you need me, call me and I'll come to you."

"It'll be strange to be so restricted here," I commented as we walked towards the door. "I'm used to being able to go wherever I want in Trenton."

"Every office runs differently because each office offers different types and amounts of services. Trenton is the smallest office, and therefore the most relaxed."

Ranger's definition of the word _relaxed_ needed a serious overhaul.

Ranger rode the elevator with me to the first floor and directed me towards Mel Jones's office before greeting three men in Armani suits and taking them into one of the conference rooms. Mel was a tanned, blond man with striking blue eyes and a wide, white smile. He looked like a politician or possibly a realtor you'd see on a billboard.

"You must be Stephanie Plum," he said with a Texan accent. "Mel Jones, how do ya do?"

I shook his hand and did my best not to cringe at the strong grip. "I'm great, thanks."

"Ranger and Frederick tell me that you're just really getting' started in Sales. Said you'd been in there part-time for the last few months while you helped ol' Chuck in Human Resources. That had to be a dull job for a pretty lady like you."

Ugh. I couldn't believe Ranger employed this guy, but so far as I knew, he'd never made a mistake with anyone he'd hired. He always saw something in them that he trusted and liked. I was only going to be there for two days, so I figured I would be able to get through it.

Back in Trenton, Frederick had tasked me with talking to prospective clients who had questions about our services and was slowly giving me current clients to monitor for the potential to offer them more services or to maintain their account if they started looking shifty, but he was the one who was still going out and meeting with the new clients and getting them signed up with accounts. Mel informed me that he had four meetings during the day, two with new clients and two with current clients who were looking add personal security to their existing residential accounts. I sat quietly and watched Mel work as he glad-handed the clients, complimented their families and intelligence, all while keeping it from crossing the line into ass-kissing. Surprisingly, every single person had been taken with his southern charm, and by the end of the day he'd wrapped up more than $300,000 in sales.

I left Mel's office at five and was given a key fob by the front desk to use to access Ranger's apartment. I went upstairs and into the bedroom, plopping down on the bed and debating a nap when my cell phone dinged with a message.

 _Be ready to leave for dinner by seven._

Ranger had told me to bring something to wear for dinner out at his favorite restaurant, so I had packed a burnt sienna halter dress with a flowing skirt that fell to an inch above my knees. After giving myself a half-hour to nap, I pulled my hair up off my neck into a stylish ponytail and took my make-up from day to night. I was just stepping into my dress when Ranger appeared in the closet. He was wearing one of his perfectly-tailored Armani suits with a black silk tie and black dress shirt. He took off the tie, hung it up, and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. He was ready to leave while I still needed to zip up my dress, transfer items to the clutch I'd brought, and put on my shoes. Men.

Ranger didn't keep a personal car in Miami, so we used one of the Rangeman Escalades to drive to an upscale restaurant right on the ocean called _Monaco,_ which was connected to an upscale hotel. Ranger gave his name to the hostess and we were escorted to the outdoor dining area. There were standing lamps that provided low light along with candle centerpieces on each table. There was a roof with exposed wood beams that provided protection should an unexpected storm show up and try to ruin the evening. There were ten, four-person tables on the patio and an open dance floor at the end. We were seated at a table on the far side of the patio, giving us an unobstructed view of the ocean and the evening sky. There was a slight breeze that helped to stave off the heat. In a nutshell, it was the most romantic moment I'd had in longer than I could remember.

"This place is amazing," I told Ranger after the hostess left us with our menus. "It's romantic without being corny, classy without being stuffy. I feel like I should be in a movie."

"And that's just the ambiance. Wait until you try the food," Ranger said with a small smile.

I ended up ordering a chicken alfredo while Ranger ordered blackened tilapia. We had a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc brought to the table and the server poured us each a glass.

"You look great, babe," Ranger told me after a few minutes. "I've never seen you in that dress."

"It's new. I got it when Aurelia and I went to that outlet mall last week."

"Lia really likes you," he replied. "In fact, I think you're a big part of the reason she stays in Trenton. I think if you weren't around, she would have asked to try living on her own in Newark after showing our parents that she could do it in Trenton. I know she misses her friends up there, and even though torture couldn't drag it out of her, she also misses having our parents around."

So if I screwed up again, I wouldn't only be hurting Ranger, but I'd also be hurting Aurelia because I doubted he would continue to let me be part of her life. After that uncomfortable thought and a glance at the black brace on Ranger's right hand, I downed the rest of my wine without further comment.

"What's wrong?" Ranger asked.

"Nothing," I said, pouring myself a second glass of wine from the bottle left on the table. I was spared further questioning when something behind me caught Ranger's attention. I turned around to see a woman headed in our direction, her gazing resting on Ranger. I guessed she was about 5'2", thirty years-old, and a D-cup. She had blonde hair cut into a long, choppy bob, green eyes, and was wearing a burgundy cocktail dress that showed off killer curves. In other words, _va-va-voom._

"Busted," Ranger commented quietly.

"Who is that?" I asked. I prayed that it wasn't some woman he used to sleep with coming over to see if he was going to pay her a visit this weekend.

"That's Rachel."

Holy shit, I was about to meet Ranger's ex-wife.

I was going to need more wine.


	15. Chapter 15

"Did your plane have to make a water landing, and as you walked along the wing of the plane to the beach you saw this place and decided to drop in for a bite?" Rachel Martine asked Ranger once she approached our table.

Ranger checked out the nearby beach, as though determining whether that were a feasible feat. "No, but that's a hell of a story."

Rachel snorted and rolled her eyes. "When did you get in?"

"Just before midnight."

"You're going to be in so much trouble," she replied with a laugh.

A man wearing a brown blazer, white dress shirt, and tan trousers came up behind Rachel and put an arm around her waist. He looked close to forty, had brown hair, blue eyes, and a jovial air about him. I assumed this was Ron Martine, Rachel's husband and Julie's adoptive father.

"What's the verdict?" he asked.

"He got in around midnight," Rachel replied.

Ron chuckled and shook his head. "Your ass is grass, Manoso."

Ranger smiled and took another sip of wine. "It's not the first time, and I doubt it'll be the last."

"Are you going to introduce us?" Rachel asked him, nodding in my direction.

"This is Stephanie Plum," Ranger said. "Who I still can't believe you didn't meet when you came up to get Julie two years ago."

"Stephanie, it's great to finally meet you," Rachel said kindly. "I'm sorry this is the first time we've met given all you did. I was a little _distraught_ when I was in Trenton, considering my daughter had been missing for several days and my ex-husband had almost been killed saving her." She gave Ranger a dirty look that he ignored.

"I completely understand. I was a little distraught myself, having been held hostage and made to watch him almost die," I said pointedly as I shook Ron's hand, also giving Ranger a dirty look for not considering that we'd all been too worried about him for pleasantries. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"So back to your daughter," Rachel said, turning on Ranger. "When were you planning to call her? Now that she'll know you're here, she's going to be calling you, you know."

"I wasn't planning to call her until Sunday evening. I thought I would come by Monday after she got out of school before we have to leave to go back to Trenton that evening. She won't know I've been here this entire time unless you tell her."

"And have to stand with you in front of the firing squad when she learns that we knew and didn't tell her?" Ron said. "Not a chance."

I watched the interaction in front of me with a mixture of confusion and awe. I remembered Ranger telling me that he had a good relationship with Rachel and Ron, but this was beyond what I'd expected. These people seemed like friends, not exes. My ex-husband and I couldn't be near each other for more than a minute without resorting to threats and name-calling.

"I was going to wait because Stephanie's birthday is this weekend, and I told her we would do whatever she wanted," Ranger admitted. "Does that help my case?"

"It hurts it, actually," Rachel replied. "Julie has wanted to see Stephanie again since she was kidnapped, and if she finds you were going to have her in town without bringing her by, she'll flip out. This is going to cost you big, mister."

Ranger and Rachel stared each other down for a minute before he sighed quietly in defeat. "I'll call her tomorrow."

Rachel patted Ranger on the shoulder. "Yes, you will. Now, what happened to your hand?"

"Run in with that maniac from a few weeks ago. It's healing."

Rachel sighed and shook her head, and Ron mentioned something about getting back to their table. "I expect to see you guys later this weekend. Stephanie, it was great meeting you."

"Um, wow," I said as I watched the couple walk away.

"What?" Ranger asked.

"First of all, Rachel's hot, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised by that. Second, what the hell kind of relationship do you have with these people? That felt like a group of friends talking, not an ex-spouses and adoptive father kind of relationship."

Ranger gave a small laugh. "Rachel and I knew going into our marriage that we weren't in love and wouldn't stay married any longer than necessary for our baby to be born, so that took out the animosity. She met Ron when Julie was a year old and they got married a year later. She made sure I got to know Ron from the beginning and they started asking me about the possibility of him adopting her shortly after they got married. I liked Ron a lot, but I still took a few months to think about it, and ultimately knew that he would be a better father for her than I could ever be. We've had eleven years to build this relationship," he said, glancing over my shoulder in their direction. "He's nice, fun, and he comes home for dinner at six every day. Everyone likes him, and he doesn't have anything in his past that's going to haunt him until he dies. He's the type of father she deserves."

For just a second, I saw a glimpse of sadness in Ranger. He rarely talked about Julie, but when he did it was usually with a sense of detachment, the same way he talked about most things. He'd told me once that letting Ron adopt Julie wasn't painful because she was happy, but now I suspected that he hadn't been entirely truthful. I sipped my glass of wine while I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was expecting more.

"But…"

Ranger stared at me for a minute before letting out the breath he'd been holding.

"There have been times when I've been visiting them and would see her give him that look that little girls give their dads. That 'I adore you, you're my hero' look. She'd never given me that look because she'd never known me as her dad. I've just been her father, some guy that lives in New Jersey, sends her gifts for her birthday and Christmas, and stops by for a visit three or four times a year. Even though I knew I'd done nothing to deserve it, something in me wanted her to look at me like that. After her kidnapping, she started wanting to know me better. She gave me that look for the first time when I saw her after I had woken up from surgery, but it had taken me doing something actually heroic to get it. I realized that I would have rather gotten it for something simple, like kissing a skinned knee or looking for a monster under the bed. For a while, it made me wonder if it had all been worth it."

He reached across the table and clasped one of my hands, running his thumb along my forefinger. "I still could have started my business and been there to be her dad, but I wouldn't I have met you. So in the end, it was worth it."

Hearing all this emotion come out of Ranger was too much for me, and I started crying.

"Babe."

"It's all the wine," I said, wiping my eyes with my other hand. "And a little shock at hearing you open up like this, but a lot of it's the wine."

Thankfully, our food arrived a couple of minutes later, and it turned out to be even better than the ambiance of the restaurant. The server brought us the dessert menu after clearing our plates and I nearly salivated as I read all of the options.

"Let's dance," Ranger suggested after I ordered a decadent chocolate cake for dessert.

After a moment of stunned silence, I glanced around to make sure that I wasn't on Candid Camera.

"Are you seriously asking me to dance with you?"

"Yes."

I bit my lip to suppress the enormous smile that was tempted to cross my face. He was full of surprises this weekend. Happy birthday to me.

Ranger led me down to the dance floor, where several couples were dancing to smooth, sultry music. His right arm wrapped around my waist and his left hand held mine against his chest.

"This is a wonderful start to my birthday weekend," I said as he pulled me close. "Thank you."

"And the best is yet to _come_."

I rolled my eyes. "How's your hand?"

"It's fine, babe. You need to stop beating yourself up over it."

"We both know I screwed up and that this injury is my fault, so I should be beating myself up over it."

Ranger planted a kiss on my forehead as we continued to dance. "The injury could have happened anyway, and if I remember it correctly, you weren't the one who plunged the knife through my hand."

"But you were fighting him in order to save my life, which wouldn't have happened if I'd stayed put. Plus, you may never get your full hand function back."

"The doctor said I should be able to regain 90-95% back. Besides, as long as I retain enough function to make you moan, that's all I need," he replied with a lascivious smile.

I snorted. "You're on a roll tonight."

"A roll in the sheets," he suggested, making me laugh.

Over his shoulder, I could see Rachel and Ron watching us with interest. When she noticed I was glancing in her direction, Rachel mouthed the words _He has it bad._

Given that we were dancing the night away in a romantic restaurant overlooking the ocean, I had to agree.

My first request for Saturday was to go to the beach. I wanted to drink margaritas and lay in the sun with Ranger for a few hours before going shopping and exploring the city the way Ranger knew it. We packed the normal necessities like towels, sunscreen, sunglasses, books, and a change of clothes and shoes for later activities, but he also packed weapons and ammo, since he wouldn't be able to carry a gun in his beach clothes. The beach we went to was one that Ranger promised was less tourist-ridden and served the best drinks in the city. We claimed our spot on the beach and while Ranger went to get our drinks from the bar, I stripped out of my tank top and shorts down to my black bikini, which I'd bought specifically for his enjoyment, and put on sunscreen. He returned ten minutes later with a margarita for me, a beer for himself, and two bottles of water. I watched him strip out of his shirt and shoes while I sipped my drink, aware that all of the women on the beach—and a few men— were doing the same.

While we were there, no men made a move to hit on me. I saw a few give me a once over as they passed, but the looks didn't linger. Ranger's presence scared them off. The women, on the other hand, weren't the least bit intimidated by me and used every excuse in the book to come over and talk to Ranger. _Are you a model? You look like that actor so-and-so . Are you related to yada-yada-yada?_ A few even had the audacity to ask if he was free for the weekend. Julie called his cell phone at one point, which came just in time to deter a blonde with enormous fake boobs from coming to sit down next to him. I could tell by his end of the conversation that he was in trouble with Julie and was only going to get out of it by agreeing to dinner the next evening. I whispered in his free ear that it was fine for us to go, and he said we would be there by five-thirty.

"It's either time to leave, or I'm going to need another margarita," I told Ranger after two hours of chasing away the bimbos.

"Thank God," he muttered, immediately standing up so that we could pack. We ducked into a tent to change clothes on our way back to the car. I put on a pair of denim capris, a dressy, purple tank top, and cute sandals while Ranger pulled on a t-shirt and jeans with sneakers. I could almost sense his relief as he strapped on his gun holsters.

Ranger took me to the Cuban section of Miami called _Little Havana_. As we drove down the main street, I saw walls decorated with murals and little shops that provided a variety of services and goods lining the way, along with places like McDonald's and Walgreens. Latin music blared out of restaurants, churches were on every other corner, and people of all ages—and mostly Latino ancestry—walked up and down the palm tree-lined sidewalks. Several trucks were parked along the road selling fresh fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Signs were posted in English and Spanish, many of the larger ones were protesting Castro. Ranger turned off the main road and went into a residential neighborhood, where houses were made of stucco and painted various shades of white, pink and yellow.

"Where are we going first?" I asked, excited to have a glimpse into this part of his life.

"I thought I would show you where I lived with my grandmother during high school," he said, turning left onto a one-way street.

"Does she still live there?"

"Yes. Would you like to meet her?"

"Of course. I'm dying to meet her. What's her name?"

Ranger smiled as he parked in front of a small, yellow bungalow. "Grandma Bella."

My head whipped around to stare at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, but you can trust me when I say she's nothing like Bella Morelli. She doesn't take anyone's shit, but she's the nicest woman in the world otherwise."

We got out of the Escalade and walked up to the small, covered porch. Ranger knocked on the door, which was opened a minute later by a petite, Latina woman who was an older version of Lola Manoso. She wore a light-weight blouse and tan slacks, looking like she'd stepped out of an issue of _Adorable Old Woman Weekly_. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ranger.

"Carlos!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace, kissing his cheek and speaking in rapid Spanish. Ranger's love for his grandmother was obvious in how he hugged her and smiled. She beckoned us inside and closed the door behind me.

"You must be Stephanie," she said in English. "You are just as beautiful as my daughter described." She hugged me tightly and kissed me on the cheek.

"Your family is so good for my self-esteem," I told Ranger as we followed his grandmother.

After fussing over his injured hand and promising to say a prayer in church for a full recovery, Bella insisted on fixing lunch for us. Ranger and I sat at the small kitchen table and talked to her while she cooked, and I learned that Ranger had reformed himself from bad boy car thief to straight-A student after his move to Miami. Bella talked about how nice it had been having him around since his grandfather had gone into a nursing home the year before.

"He was so popular with the girls at his school that I thought I was going to have to withdraw him and send him to an all-boys school," she said as she began setting the table. "Girls would follow him as he walked home every day, hoping he would notice them."

"They still do," I reported, recalling the scene from the beach.

"Well, they can follow all they like, but I can tell my Carlos only has eyes for you," she replied, patting him tenderly on the head. "Though I cannot understand why he waited so long."

"There were a lot of reasons, _abuela_ ," he said.

"Afraid of commitment?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?" That response earned him a smack on the back of the head.

"Carlos! Do not speak of His Holiness in such a way!" she said, making the sign of the cross as she headed back to the stove. I doubled over laughing under the pretext of rifling through my bag that was sitting on the floor. Once I'd regained my composure, I found Ranger staring at me, trying to look pissed off.

"Don't look at me like that," I whispered. "There are people who would have sold their souls to have witnessed that. Be thankful I only laughed a little and that I won't tell anyone."

Bella turned out to be my favorite of Ranger's family members besides Aurelia. She was funny and sweet, but I could sense something about her that reminded me of Ranger. She had an uncanny ability to read people and seemed to really understand motivations and emotions behind both good and bad deeds. She openly admitted that Ranger was her favorite grandchild, that everyone knew it and understood that they didn't stand a chance of usurping his position. They had a kinship that seemed to run deeper than even what he had with Aurelia. Bella talked enthusiastically of Ranger's support of his sister and how happy she was that someone was giving her a chance to be herself. At one point, Ranger got a call from Tank and excused himself to take it. I gave him a look that told him I wasn't happy that he was taking a work call during our free weekend, but I also knew that Tank wouldn't call him for anything trivial, so the look wasn't too bitchy.

"There's no such thing as a day off when you have cities to keep safe," I joked with Bella as Ranger went out the back door.

She chuckled and looked out the window at him on the phone. "He has always been this way, even as a little boy. When Carlos was about six, Javier lost his job. That was before he started his own business. Raising six kids on a nurse's salary meant money got tight, and Carlos would lay awake at night worrying about it. One time, he ripped his pants on the swing at school and cried the entire way home because he knew his parents would have to spend money to buy him new pants. He had walked several blocks out of his way to get home so that he could pick up as many coins as he could find to help pay for his new pants. He worried that he was eating too much and tried to only eat one thing at each meal, which of course on lasted half a day because he was a growing boy who needed food. He was also fiercely protective of Aurelia and was always standing up for her and getting into fights. By the time he moved here, his parents were raising six children either in high school or college, so money was tight even with two salaries. He knew his parents sent money here to help out with his care, so the minute he turned fifteen, he got a job as a lifeguard. He worked every weekend and school break until he graduated, and every time he got paid, he gave me his entire paycheck. I told him each time he didn't need to do it, but he just said that he did and left me with the money. I saved the money for him until he graduated from high school, when I gave it back to him. He had been stunned that I hadn't used it, but I told him that seeing him work as hard as he did made me want to do that for him. After he started his business and began making good money, one of the first things he did was pay off my house. I'd taken out a second mortgage on it when my husband went into the nursing home to pay for his care, and Carlos told me that he wanted to pay it off because he had seen how hard I worked to take care of him and do what I could for my husband when he was ill. He may have this tough exterior now, but that sweet little boy is still inside him, wanting to make sure he takes good care of everyone."

I didn't get a chance to respond before Ranger came back inside, apologizing for the phone call, but saying that one of his employees in Atlanta had gotten into an altercation with a client and had been arrested for assault. Tank was trying to do damage control with the client to avoid a lawsuit and harm to the company's reputation, but had wanted to bring him up to speed on it.

"Hopefully by the time you come to visit me again, you'll have a ring on that finger," Bella said as we made to leave the house. "If not, I may have to smack this young man around." I gave a noncommittal laugh as I hugged her and bid her goodbye.

As Ranger pulled away from the house, I started wondering if marriage was something that would eventually happen between us. I'd never been entirely sure that I wanted to get married again, and Ranger hadn't even seemed like potential boyfriend material until this summer, let alone husband material. Our talk over the summer had made it clear that we wanted to take things slow, not trying to force something too fast and potentially ruin it, but that neither of us was firm in our stance on marriage. Did I really want Dickie Orr to have been the only man I ever married in this life? Is that ambulance-chasing whore the only one I want to have ever had the chance to call my husband?

He drove us around for an hour, showing me the places where he used to hang out when he was a kid. Places where he used to smoke, where he took girls when he wanted a private place to get in their pants, and where he had gone to high school. Clearly Grandma Bella hadn't known everything about him growing up. I asked to stop so that I could explore all of the little shops along the way, amazed at how many people still knew and recognized Ranger even though he'd moved away so many years before. I ended up buying several dresses at a small boutique owned by a friend of Bella's while Ranger waited patiently outside the little dressing room. I modeled each one for him, asking his opinion. He vetoed a couple of them, but liked the rest, making a couple of lewd suggestions when the store's owner was out of earshot. The afternoon was one of the most normal days I'd ever had with Ranger. He was relaxed and smiling, holding my hand as we walked down the streets of Little Havana. As we were ready to head back to the apartment, Ranger gave me the keys to the car and told me he'd meet me there, walking into a store on the other side of the road. I watched as he returned a few minutes later carrying a white, square bakery box. Once inside the car, he set the box between the seats and pulled away from the curb. I leaned over to peek inside the box, but Ranger put a finger on top of the lid to keep me from opening it.

"Later."

"When is later?" I asked.

"After dinner."

I blew out a dramatic sigh. "So mean."

When we got back to the apartment, Ranger surprised me by informing me that he was cooking dinner for us, since we would be spending dinner on my birthday with the Martines. He poured me a glass of white wine and started cooking filet mignon and roasted vegetables while I sat at the bar and watched him work. Watching him work was astounding. He chopped vegetables, mixed his marinade, and flipped the meat like a professional chef, all with an injured hand.

"You've never been sexier to me than you are right now," I informed him. He laughed and began setting out plates for our food.

"Just wait until you've tasted the dessert. You'll be ripping my clothes off."

Dinner was perfect, and what was even better was the cake Ranger had gotten from the bakery. It was called _tres leches_ cake, and it reminded me a little of tiramisu, only better. He said it was what was traditionally served for birthdays in his family. I felt myself get a little emotional at the effort he had put into making my birthday weekend so special and kissed him soundly before we cut into the cake.

The next morning, on my actual birthday, I was awakened with tender, passionate love-making that left us both sweaty and breathless.

"That was a really great birthday gift," I told him as we laid together. He kissed my head and reached over to the bedside table.

"And it isn't the only one," he said as he pulled out a black, rectangular box.

I sat up in bed and opened the box to find a stunning platinum watch with diamonds circling the face. I figured the watch had set Ranger back a few grand.

"This is gorgeous," I said, putting it on my wrist to admire how it looked. It fit perfectly. How the man knew the size of my wrist was beyond me.

"It also has a panic button with GPS on it," he informed me, pointing to a little button on the right side of the face. "It's just like the one I've had you use in the past, but I remembered that you said it needed diamonds."

I kissed him thoroughly, which led to a very thorough round of sex. My request for the day was to go out to breakfast, then to come back to the apartment and be lazy until we had to get ready for dinner at the Martines. I knew it was difficult for Ranger to not be active for hours on end, but he managed it without complaint. We snuggled on the sofa in the living room watching an early afternoon football game, had an exciting round of sex on the dining room table during halftime, put on actual clothes, and left for the Martines' house at five.

Rachel and Ron lived in a neighborhood of well-maintained, ranch-style homes. They were owned by people who worked hard to earn a living, likely as police officers, nurses, and repairmen. The Martines' house was painted a light gray with dark blue shutters. A service van was parked in the driveway, advertising the company Ron worked for, next to a silver minivan. Ranger parked the Escalade on the street and we got out and headed up the sidewalk to the front door. He knocked on the front door and I listened as a cacophony of noise began. People were yelling, a dog was barking, and it sounded like someone tripped over something and swore right before the door opened and Ron greeted us warmly.

"Glad you could make it, but watch out as you walk in the door. Tony decided to leave cars in the foyer," he said, holding the door open for us to enter. We went into the living room, which was decorated in what I called _mommy chic._ My sister's house looked like this —lots of cute stuff from craft stores that was ultimately chipped or colored on by children. The furniture was dark blue, the floors were hardwood, and the walls were cream-colored. Family pictures filled up the walls, showing the three children at various ages. We followed Ron to the backyard, where a large, in-ground pool took up part of an enormous backyard. There was a patio area with a table designed to seat six that was laden with dishes and ready for a meal. Inflatable rafts floated around in the pool and towels littered the perimeter. A privacy fence enclosed the yard. I could see Julie and the other two children running around the grassy area playing soccer while the dog ran around all three of them, seeming unsure of who it should be chasing.

Rachel was more casual today in a pair of tan shorts and a pink, v-neck shirt, making me feel slightly less intimidated by her looks. While she finished bringing out the last of the food, Julie spotted us and hurried in our direction.

"I'm so glad you came, Stephanie," she cried, hugging me tightly. She'd grown several inches since I'd last seen her two years ago and had matured from a little girl to an almost-teenager. She was nearly a spitting image of Ranger, except that her skin was a couple of shades lighter and she had Rachel's nose.

"It's great to see you," I told her. "Especially in better circumstances."

She laughed. "I know, right. Nothing like being held hostage together."

She turned on Ranger, crossing her arms and giving him a look that expressed her displeasure. In that moment, she looked so much like him that I nearly started laughing. I'd seen that look on his face countless times. "You weren't going to call, were you?"

"I was going to call," he said. "I told you I was going to call you tomorrow. I had promised Stephanie we would spend the weekend however she wanted, and I didn't know what she would want to do."

She continued to stare at him for a solid minute while he simply returned the look. She eventually gave up, blew out a frustrated sigh, and hugged him tightly.

"You'll never win," he told her after he kissed her on the top of the head. "But that was a good effort."

Dinner was casual and entertaining. The Martines' other two children, Olivia and Tony, were funny, bright children who looked a lot like Ron. Tony clearly idolized Ranger and kept asking him questions about bad guys and guns. Olivia reminded me of my niece Mary Alice, minus the horse obsession. She asked a lot of questions, including whether Ranger and I lived together. Rachel scolded her, but I informed Olivia that I had my own apartment back home. The dog, whose name was Toby, spent the entire evening laying by Ranger's feet.

Julie brought me up to speed on her school and her violin and dance lessons. I learned that she went to an immersive school where the curriculum was taught in Spanish for non-native speakers, thus allowing children to learn from a young age. She was the best student in her class and that was even with having skipped the third grade. With the exception of her talkative personality and the fact that she was a twelve-year-old girl, she was a carbon copy of Ranger. She showed me pictures of her friends, asked me about my favorite movies and music, and told me I was cool for an old person, which made Ranger laugh. Julie then asked him if we were going to get married and have kids anytime soon, which shut him up quickly.

"I have some exciting news," Rachel announced once Julie decided to join a competition with her siblings to see who could swim around the perimeter of the pool the fastest. "I'm going back to school to become a nurse."

Ranger looked mildly surprised, which was the normal human equivalent of falling out of the chair. "That's great. When do you start?"

"In January," she replied. "Now that Tony is in school full-time, it's a really good time for me to do it. It only takes two years, and it will be a little tough on us when I have to do clinicals, but our families are supportive and have offered to help out with the kids if we need them to. I'd planned to do it after high school, but then I got pregnant with Julie, so I didn't think I'd end up doing it. I didn't consider how much free time I would have once everyone was in school all day. An ideal job would be to get a position as a school nurse so that I would have the same breaks as the kids, but I'll probably have to work at a hospital for a while first."

"Maybe once you've got a good job, I can quit mine," Ron joked and dodged a dinner roll that Rachel threw in his direction.

Later in the evening, Rachel had gone inside for dessert and Ranger offered to help her, which told me that he wanted to speak to her privately. I asked Ron where the restroom was and excused myself before dessert was served. I had to walk past the kitchen to get to the restroom and overheard Rachel talking to Ranger.

"—so in love with her," she was saying. "I never thought I'd see you get serious about anyone."

"Neither did I," he replied. "But then I never thought anyone like Stephanie Plum existed."

That felt a little like backhanded compliment, but I'd let it go for the time being.

"She's great, Carlos. Are you going to actually settle down and get married? For love, and not because you knock her up."

I heard Ranger chuckle. "I don't know. Maybe. We aren't rushing anything. But on the topic of getting knocked up and married, you would have gone on to school to become a nurse if I hadn't taken advantage of you that night. Instead, you've spent the past twelve years raising our daughter, and doing a great job of it. But I'm sorry that I robbed you of the chance to do this sooner."

"Carlos, you gave me the best thing that has ever happened to me. Sure, I would have preferred to have not become a mother at nineteen, but she wouldn't be who she is if she didn't have you for a father, so don't apologize. I've never been angry or resentful over it. I just accepted it for what it was, and lived my life. I could have said no."

Yeah, right. I'd barely been able to say no to Ranger in my thirties, and that had only been out of guilt of being unfaithful to Morelli. No woman would have stood a chance at only eighteen or nineteen.

I heard them start to head towards the hall, so I quietly slipped into the restroom and took care of business, returning to the patio a few minutes later. Neither Rachel or Ranger seemed to suspect that I'd heard their conversation, so talk continued on until the sun began to set lower in the sky. Ranger and I left as the kids were told it was time to go inside for baths and bed. We hugged Julie and were made to promise that we'd both visit again soon. Ranger nearly had to give a blood oath to swear that he would call her sooner the next time he was in town.

"I really like them," I told Ranger as we walked to the car. "I can see why you get along so well."

"They're good people," he said, holding my door open. "I'm lucky to have them as the ones raising my daughter."

As we pulled into the Rangeman garage twenty minutes later, I thanked Ranger for the amazing weekend he had given me. I received a lusty kiss and a simple "Babe" in response, which I took as the signal that _amazing, talkative boyfriend_ Ranger was going back to wherever he came from to be replaced by _normal_ Ranger, who was still a great boyfriend, but in a different way. We took the elevator upstairs and began winding down the weekend and preparing for work the next day.

 _Another day with Mel,_ I thought. _Happy Birthday to me._


	16. Chapter 16

By December, I was managing my own clients, signing new ones, and doing almost everything Frederick was doing with the exception of his assignments as department head. I had been doing a significant amount of outreach to people I knew who could afford Rangeman services, and was surprised at how many people were interested in an account. I even convinced Connie to get a Rangeman security system for her house, though I'd made an unauthorized, probably illegal, and slightly immoral promise that if a Rangeman employee didn't come with seven minutes of her alarm going off, said employee would get _her_ off once he arrived.

"I'm going to need you to babysit some of my clients when January rolls around," Frederick told me one Wednesday afternoon. "I'll be back and forth to Indiana for the first couple of months of the year, and I have a few clients who need me to hold their hands or they constantly second-guess everything."

Not what I wanted to hear. Frederick tended to keep the cases that needed coddled. They were the people who called him rather than the control room when they had a question about their system. They called once a month to ask why they shouldn't bother changing to a cheaper system with another company. They were people who needed and wanted attention, and it seemed that the only place they could get it was from Rangeman. I already had the cramps from Hell, so the idea of listening to Mrs. Larsen bitch once a week made me want to jump off the roof.

"Why are you going to Indiana?" I asked, rifling through my brain to see if I could recall him mentioning family there, but found nothing. Frederick was originally from Texas and had moved to Pennsylvania in high school.

"I have to help build up the Sales department," he said, reading over a stack of papers in his hand. "They're not very strong, so I'm going to start giving them tips, bringing them up to speed on the changes in services, and then do some outreach in the city to start bringing on some big clients. I never paid much attention to Indianapolis, but they have some decent potential there. The Indy 500, the Colts, and a couple of big pharmaceutical companies are my first major targets."

I continued to stare at Frederick until he realized that I was completely in the dark. "What?"

"What are you talking about? What Sales department in Indianapolis? We don't have a branch there."

Frederick looked equals parts confused and uncomfortable. "Um, Ranger didn't mention that he bought out a small firm and they are becoming out newest branch as of January first?"

I couldn't hide the shock that crossed my face. Ranger had bought out a company and was planning to open a branch in Indianapolis and hadn't bothered to mention _any_ of it to me? Things had been going really well between us. Was buying a new office such a big secret that he could tell Frederick, but not me? I could see the panic on Frederick's face at the realization that Ranger hadn't bothered to tell his girlfriend something and he was probably worrying about his job and possibly his health.

"It's Indianapolis, not Minneapolis?" I asked, deciding I'd spare him the embarrassment.

"That's right."

"Oh, okay," I said with a fake laugh. "I was confused for a minute. I thought he'd said he was opening a branch in Minneapolis."

Frederick laughed and a look of pure relief crossed his face. "No, no. Indianapolis. All those Midwestern cities tend to look and sound alike, right?"

It was bad enough that I was having to go into a new client meeting with PMS, but now I was having to do it feeling hurt by Ranger's decision to not tell me about opening up a new branch of his business. Unfortunately for me, the guy I was meeting was kind of creepy. His name was John Callahan, and he was a computer programmer who worked out of his home. He was thirty-four, thin as a rail, and balding. He'd recently purchased a new home in Hamilton Township and was wanting to make sure that his stuff stayed where it was supposed to. He was a nervous, twitchy type of guy who blushed anytime I made eye contact. I looked down to make sure I wasn't showing any inappropriate body parts, which would have been impossible in my black turtleneck and black dress pants. I had the feeling the guy was a thirty-four-year-old virgin who had probably never even been kissed. He bounced his leg nervously throughout the entire meeting and when I told him I'd need to come out to his home to look around and make suggestions, he gave a nervous laugh. Great.

By the time I got out of the meeting an hour and a half later, my cramps had intensified, my head was pounding, and I was royally pissed off. I finished up the paperwork on the client and packed up. I'd been planning to spend the night with Ranger, but since he couldn't be bothered to tell me about opening a new branch of Rangeman in Indianapolis, then I couldn't be bothered to stay with him.

I was about halfway home when my cell phone rang. The display told me it was Ranger, so I hit ignore on the phone and kept on driving. The phone dinged with a text message a minute later, but I chose not to read it, even though the new Jeep Grand Cherokee I'd bought last month had the ability to read my text messages to me through the stereo. Maybe I was just hormonal and overreacting, but not knowing about the Indianapolis office felt like a setback for our relationship. If Ranger felt like he couldn't talk to me about that a new purchase for his company, what else did think he couldn't talk about?

I changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, made myself a peanut butter and olive sandwich, grabbed a pint of ice cream out of the freezer, and poured myself a large glass of wine. I ate the sandwich while I watched a _Friends_ rerun, trying to channel my anger towards Ranger into my eating. Peanut butter, ice cream, and wine would solve all my problems, right? The sugar would boost my mood, the protein would give me energy, and the wine would help with the cramps. Ranger tried to call again, but I didn't even bother to hit the ignore button. I was on my second glass of wine and about a third of the way through the ice cream when I heard the door to my apartment open, and Ranger appeared in the living room a second later.

"Why aren't you answering your phone?" he asked, looking around the apartment as though he expected someone to be there.

"Because you don't have anything to say to me," I replied as I continued to eat my ice cream and watch my show.

Ranger continued to watch me for a few minutes, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I was curious to see if he would be able to figure it out on his own. Ranger was a control freak and part of the way he kept control in his life was by knowing everything he possibly could about his employees, his family, and his enemies. The other way he kept control was by keeping everyone else in the dark about what he was doing or thinking. It was a shitty way to live, and an even shittier way to try to have a relationship. I'd thought we'd been making progress. I'd thought he was opening up to me more and letting me see the real him, but now I suspected that he was just feeding me little tidbits of information to keep me satisfied and unquestioning. Just the night before, I'd reached the conclusion that I should go ahead and shred the contents of the envelope that was still hidden under my bedside table. I hadn't read the evaluations, and wasn't sure that I ever would, but now that I knew Ranger wasn't telling me important things, I wasn't ready to let go of them just yet.

"I haven't had a good day today," Ranger said. "So just tell me what is bothering you. I'm not going to stand here all night trying to figure it out."

"What's bothering me?" I asked, standing up and turning to face him. "What's bothering me is that you didn't tell me that you're opening up a new branch of your business next month and I had to find out from Frederick. What's bothering me is that I had to interview an incredibly creepy client today—bringing in money for _your_ company— and tomorrow I have to go to his house and try to ignore the fact that he's trying to imagine me naked. And my uterus feels like it's in a freaking vice grip!"

"Are you serious? _That's_ why you left without a word and ignored my phone calls for two hours?"

"Yes, I'm serious. How could you not tell me about the Indianapolis branch? Buying out a company doesn't happen overnight, and since it's opening under Rangeman management January first, you've had to have been in the process of buying it for a while now. Why didn't I know about this?"

"Because I don't have to tell you every decision I make for _my_ company," he replied. "I own eighty-four percent of this company. Within the next couple of years, I plan to buy out the remaining sixteen percent. At this point, I am only responsible to answer to my one remaining business partner, and that person is not you. When it comes to Rangeman, you are my employee, not my girlfriend. I don't have to run decisions by you. If I want to open a new branch of my business, the business I've worked my ass off to build, then I will do so. I offered you a job when you were tired of bond enforcement and you accepted it. You get paid to bring in business for the company. You've had to deal with creepy men in the past, but it didn't stop you from doing your job. If you're uncomfortable being alone with this guy, then take someone with you to his house. And unless I've gotten you pregnant and you're now in labor, your uterus hurting is not my fault."

"Are you freaking kidding me? That's how you justify this!" I shrieked. "You don't think that it's any of my business to know that you are going to have be gone more than you already are? You're out of town at the other three branches seven days each month. That's seven whole days that I don't get to see you, and that's just dealing with branches that are already established. How much are you going to have to be gone when you're building a new branch? Am I ever going to see you? What about your sister? Are you just going to heap the responsibility of making sure that she's taking her medication and staying safe onto Ella and me while you run off to increase your profit margin?"

Ranger was so furious with me at that point that he could have been mistaken for a statue with his stillness. I knew I was pushing him, but I was hurt and angry. If he couldn't come to me with big decisions like this, where I would be impacted by his absence, then how could we be expected to have a future? Ever since our weekend in Miami back in October, I'd been thinking more often about the future with Ranger and the possibility of marriage. I was beginning to think I might actually want to get married, and it was scaring the hell out of me. Not only because of having been hurt in the past, but because I worried that Ranger may never want the same thing.

"There's no point in trying to talk to you tonight," Ranger said. "You're only going to argue with me."

And before I could say anything else, he was gone. Bastard.

I spent a sleepless night fuming and went into the office on Thursday feeling like crap. The only actual appointment I had for the day was going to John Callahan's house, so once that was done, I could shut myself up in my office for the rest of the day doing paperwork and making phone calls. Frederick steered clear of me all morning, which told me that either _Fuck off_ was written across my forehead or he had come to the conclusion that I hadn't had a clue that Ranger was expanding his business and I was pissed off about it.

I decided against taking anyone with me to Callahan's house, figuring I'd taken on bigger and scarier men than him before and survived. The house was in a newly built neighborhood on the border of Hamilton Township and Trenton. It was painted a pale yellow with dark brown trim and had a white picket fence enclosing the backyard. The house seemed too cute given how creepy Callahan was. I hadn't even knocked on the door when he opened it.

"Hi, Stephanie," he said nervously. "You look pretty today."

I looked like I'd been dragged down the road. I hadn't bothered with a shower or make-up this morning, opting instead to just pull my hair up in a ponytail, throw on whatever semi-professional clothes I could find, and walk out the door. I walked past Callahan into the house, fighting the urge to cringe as I tried to squeeze past without touching him. I had a hard time understanding exactly what he was trying to protect as we walked room to room. He only had a couch and a small television in his living room, nothing but boxes in the large family room, and one of the bedrooms was empty. His personal bedroom had a bed and dresser along with two large desks that housed computers and printers. Another bedroom seemed to serve as a home office or possibly a junk room for computers. It was hard to tell. Callahan always walked behind me as we made our way through the house, telling me about why he bought it. I had a feeling he was staring at my ass and even sniffing my ponytail at a couple of points, though when I turned around, he wasn't doing anything. I made suggestions of keypads and wiring screens in lieu of window panes to allow for open windows when the alarm was set at night. I could have probably taken Callahan for a ride and convinced him to buy a huge video monitoring system, but I didn't try it. It was wrong, plus I wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could.

"Do—do you wanna get lunch or something?" Callahan asked as I was leaving his house.

"Can't, but thanks for asking," I said, hurrying to my car before he could ask about dinner or a different date.

It was noon when I got back to the office, so I went upstairs to the fifth floor dining room to grab food to take down to my office, hoping not to see Ranger. I was still mad, not just because he hadn't told me about the new branch, but because of how he's handled the argument the night before. I had thought I was safe, but he blocked my exit as I went to leave the dining room.

"Come to my office," he said.

"Why? I have a lot of paperwork to do and I'd like to eat my lunch."

"Because I want to talk to you."

"About?"

"Last night."

"That was a fight with your girlfriend," I told him. "And between eight and five, Monday through Friday, I am not your girlfriend, but an employee of Rangeman. You'll have to wait until after five to address personal problems, and since I have a dinner date with your sister after work, it'll have to be sometime after that."

The dining room had gone deadly still and silent, no one daring to move or breathe. I pushed past Ranger and took the stairs down to the first floor. I'd just poked the bear, and now I was slightly terrified that he might come after me and eat me. I made it to my office and had just sat down at my desk when he came in and shut the door. I saw him point his key fob at the camera in my office, which meant he was scrambling it so that no one would witness the conversation.

"I told you I'm not dealing with personal problems on company time," I said, briefly wondering when I'd become suicidal.

"You had no right to speak to me like that in front of my men," Ranger said quietly. "I wanted to speak to you privately about last night, because I didn't handle it well and wanted to apologize. But you're still pissed off and decided to air our personal problems at work. That crossed the line, Stephanie. You used to be worried about how you'd be received here because of our relationship, but things have gone fine because everyone knew we kept the details of our relationship private and didn't let anything interfere with our jobs. You're now the one who has made things public at work. So you can't blame anyone but yourself if they start acting differently or change their opinion about you having this job while dating me."

"If you had bothered to tell me that you were adding a branch to your business, there wouldn't have been a problem in the first place. _Then_ you stand in my living room and tell me that I'm not your girlfriend at work, just your employee, and because you're paying me, I am expected to deal with whatever shit you toss my way," I replied angrily.

"That is not what I said. I said you get paid to bring in business to the company when you were complaining about having to go to the home of a client who made you uncomfortable. I told you to take someone with you if he bothered you, but you didn't. You went alone today."

"Whatever. This isn't going anywhere," I replied, trying to fight the tears that were threatening. "You don't see the problem with not telling me that you're opening another branch. I thought, since you're supposed to love me, that you would want to let me know that we won't be able to spend as much time together for the next couple of months while you get your new branch up and running and that you'll need my help more with Aurelia. Is that too much to ask?"

Ranger looked like he was going to respond, but we were interrupted by the ringing of my office phone. I wiped the tears from my eyes and answered the phone. It was a potential client inquiring about the type of services we provided and price ranges. I put on my most professional voice and did my job, avoiding eye contact with Ranger. He got up and left a few minutes later, since my call was clearly going to last a while.

I didn't see Ranger again for the rest of the work day, so I stayed in my office until Aurelia showed up at five-thirty. We headed down to my car and drove to _Pino'_ s, which was her new favorite restaurant. Once we'd ordered a large pizza with everything, she said she wanted to talk to me about something.

"Do you think Lester likes me?"

"Likes you how? As a friend or more than a friend?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. Lester was a born flirt and it seemed like he couldn't help himself from flirting with every woman he encountered. Not that he wanted to get every woman he met into bed, but his natural tendencies had caused him problems before when women had misinterpreted his behavior. And I had a feeling that this was what was happening now.

"As more than a friend," she replied, clearly embarrassed. "He's really nice to me and he acts like he likes me, but I don't think he does. I know he wouldn't want to be my boyfriend because I'm different and he's really cute and funny."

I was going to kill Lester.

"Lester is a flirty guy," I told her. "And he doesn't always think about how he comes off to other people. He could never be your boyfriend because you're his boss's sister, but I do think he likes you as a friend. Do you want me to talk to him about it?"

"No," Aurelia said quickly. "I don't want him to think I like him. I mean, I kind of do because he's really cute, but I like someone else. A guy from my swim team."

Aurelia had joined the Special Olympics swimming team in November and was doing well. She liked having friends who were more like her again and had even gone out with people a few times by herself. Ranger had secretly put a tracker in the lining of her coat so that he could make sure he knew where she was, but hadn't required someone to follow her around. And now she had a crush. I usually took her to the practices each week, but would drop her off and come back to pick her up when she was ready, so I wasn't sure who the guy might be.

"Tell me all about him," I said, glad for a distraction from the persistent thoughts of my arguments with Ranger.

I dropped Aurelia back off at Rangeman at seven, having listened to her gush about the guy from the swim team and offered her the advice that she didn't have to wait on him to make a move. I made sure she got into the building before pulling away from the curb and stopping at my parents' house, where I was sure I could snag dessert. Even though my mother and I had cleared things up back in September, our relationship had changed. I wasn't sure if it was because of the argument we'd had or because things were going better in my life and I didn't have to rely on her as much anymore. We got along well, but it felt like we both were walking around on eggshells, not sure what might set the other person off. I only ate dinner with them a couple of times a month, though Ranger would usually come with me for one of the times. My mother was respectful of our relationship, asking Ranger questions and treating him as well, if not better, than she used to treat Morelli. Grandma Mazur had liked living with her friend and having that space from my father, so she'd continued to stay at Elsie's house, though she came by to visit my mother every day.

"What's wrong?" my mother asked as she watched me eat my pineapple upside-down cake.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Something's wrong. Did you and Carlos have a fight?"

"No," I lied for the second time. "But he's going to be really busy over the next couple of months. He's opening up a branch of Rangeman in Indianapolis, so I won't get to see him as much. I guess I'm just a little bummed over that."

She said nothing, but I knew my mother could tell I was lying. Mothers always seemed to know these things.

"I saw Joseph at the grocery store the other day," she said. "He had his daughter with him. She's a cute baby and he seemed to be enjoying her."

I closed my eyes briefly. If my mother was trying to lift my spirits, this was not the way to do it.

"That's nice," I eventually said, scarfing down the last of the pie so that I could leave. "I need to get going. See you later."

Exhausted from a sleepless night and an emotional day, I went to bed at nine and fell to sleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. At one point, I woke up in the dark and realized that I was snuggled into Ranger, my head resting on his chest. I could tell he was awake because he was rubbing a circle on my back. I tried to say something, but my brain was too tired to convey language to my mouth, so I closed my eyes and didn't open them again until my alarm went off at six-thirty. I sat up and looked at Ranger, who was awake and watching me.

"You look exhausted," I commented, noticing dark circles under his eyes. "Did you sleep last night?"

"Maybe an hour. And I only managed an hour or two the night before," he said quietly. "I can't sleep knowing you're mad at me."

His Grandma Bella's words about a sweet little boy being trapped inside a tough man's body came back to me and pulled at my heart.

"Can you understand where I'm coming from?" I asked him. "Did you think I wouldn't support you?"

"I didn't worry about you not being supportive, but I also didn't keep this information from you intentionally. I didn't really think that you would care that much. We had a nondisclosure agreement in place until negotiations were finalized. We just settled three weeks ago and I've been slowly informing departments of the new branch. I've been doing things differently than I have in the past _because_ I have you and Lia to consider. The first thing I did was send Hector and George Carmichael out to Indianapolis to assess both their technology and their staff. I sent out Chuck and Mario from Accounting this week to start getting payroll and benefits prepared for the employees along with getting contracts signed. Frederick will be going out after the holidays to start training the Sales staff along with meeting with a few major companies. I normally spend the first six weeks at a new branch, but this time I'm only going to spend the first two. Tank will do oversight out there for a month after I leave, and two men from each branch will transfer out there to work for six months to help the field staff transition. I'll go out for a couple of days each month like I do with the other branches, but that's it. I'm planning to do as much of my job as I can from Trenton."

"Why didn't you just say that?" I asked. "Even the other night when I told you I was mad, why didn't you tell me this then?"

Ranger rubbed a hand over his eyes. "George had called me earlier that day to say that of the fifty field employees they have out there, one-third of them aren't meeting physical or training standards. I'm not sure that I have enough people to spare from the other four branches to go out there to work while we either try to recruit new employees or get the current ones up to par, and it bothers me to think that I could be putting sixteen people out of work, especially when four of them are over fifty-five. They could try to sue me for age discrimination. This is the biggest company I've purchased, so I'm not used to have so many people already in place. This branch is breaking the mold all around, and it's stressing me. In case you have noticed, I have control issues."

"No shit."

"I haven't had anyone with as much power as you do holding me to expectations since I was in the Army. For the most part, I think I've done well adjusting in my personal life, but it's still strange to know you have expectations of me in my professional life. Until I met you, my professional and personal lives didn't mix. Since I've known you, they've only continued to overlap more and more."

"Whoa," I said with a small laugh. "I don't have _any_ power over you. You are the one with power over me. You know my every move, all my secrets, my bra size, and my SAT scores. You're the one who decides much I get to know about you and how much time I get to spend with you. You seem to have most of the power in this relationship."

"Like I said, I have control issues," he replied. He sat up next to me and rested his arms on his bent knees. "But you do have power over me, Stephanie. More than you realize. Probably more than I realize. You can bring me to my knees, and that both amazes and scares the hell out of me. And sometimes, it makes me do or say things that are an effort to minimize how much power you have over me because it overwhelms me. I meant it when I said that I don't have to run every decision I make about my company by you, but I will try to be better about informing you of decisions that will have a big impact on us so that you can prepare, or at the very least so that you don't have to hear about it from someone else."

He was definitely a control freak, but he was my control freak. And I loved him.

"Okay," I said, taking one of his hands. "I can live with that."

Ranger nodded and squeezed my hand. "But we have to talk about what happened yesterday in the dining room. Girlfriend or not, you can't talk to me like that in front of my men, especially when you're working. It challenges my authority and, frankly, makes me look pussy-whipped. Which may be the case sometimes, but they don't need to know that."

I sighed and moved over to hug him. "You're right. I'm sorry about that. It was unprofessional of me, and it won't happen again."

Ranger gave me a kiss on the neck. "Thanks, babe. Now, speaking of pussy…"

"You aren't getting any for the next few days."

"You know that doesn't bother me," he said, his voice muffled because his lips were on my neck.

"It bothers me. It sounds messy and just kind of weird."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"No."

"You don't know you won't like it until you've tried it."

I bit my lip and scanned Ranger's delicious, naked body.

"Well, maybe we can try it in the shower."

I was in a much better mood as I walked into the office on Friday morning. Frederick looked like me might pass out from relief and was talking my ear off about his plans for Indianapolis. We tossed around ideas of what I would do with his high-maintenance cases when they asked questions or demanded to speak to him directly. I called a time-out on sales talk while I ran upstairs to grab us muffins, not having had time to eat before I left my apartment that morning.

When I got upstairs to the dining room, it was to find Louis and Ella cleaning up what had been the glass from the front of the refrigerator, which was now shattered all over the floor.

"What happened to the refrigerator door?" I asked them as I grabbed two muffins from the counter.

Ella tried to speak, but was so angry that she couldn't form words, just squeaks. Louis spoke up instead.

"Someone said something stupid."

When neither one elaborated, I finished my gathering and left the room. A peek across the control room showed me that Ranger's office door was open. I headed in that direction, but Tank intercepted me.

"Not now," he said quietly, gently turning me around to walk back towards the elevator.

"What happened in the dining room? Did Ranger do that?"

"Martin Jones shot off his mouth, not realizing that Ranger was in the room, and Ranger responded by putting him through the door and then firing him," Tank replied, pressing the down button on the elevator panel.

"What did he say?" I asked, but Tank didn't answer.

"What did he say?" I repeated.

Tank looked behind him to make sure no one was around before finally giving in. "He said that 'the office was going to shit with Ranger's pussy and his retarded sister working here'. His words, not mine."

My jaw dropped in shock. Martin Jones and I had never really been on speaking terms, but I'd never had any indication that he didn't like me. Being called Ranger's pussy, while being sexist, didn't bother me nearly as much as the comment about Aurelia. I had no doubt that Ranger had exhibited a significant of restraint by only putting Jones through a glass door.

"Did he bleed? Did he cry?" I asked as I stepped onto the elevator.

"Yes, and yes," Tank said with a satisfied smile.

"Good," I said, as the doors made to shut. I stopped them with my foot and they retreated into the elevator walls. "Oh, and tell Lester to stop being flirty with Aurelia or he'll be next."


	17. Chapter 17

To say that the new year didn't get off to a good start would be an understatement. December had been rocky, considering the argument Ranger and I'd had, Martin Jones's comments and firing, and the increased workload and stress of getting everything in place for Indianapolis's transition. January only ended up being worse.

John Callahan had turned into a client who needed coddling, calling me twice a week to ask me questions about the system and if I'd come out to his house to help him figure out something. Typically I'd have passed him on, but with Frederick being in Indiana for the entire month of January, I was stuck with him. I'd gone to his house the first couple of times because I had done that for several other clients, but after that, I started sending a technician. Every time I spoke to Callahan, he would try to ask me personal questions and had repeatedly asked if he could have my cell phone number in case of a question after hours, but my response was that he would need to call the office and speak to a technician. He also tended to ask me out to lunch or dinner at least once a week, despite my repeated rejections. After four weeks of this, I started having the front desk filter my calls. If Callahan was calling, he was told I was unavailable and referred to a technician for a question about his system. Reports were that every time he was forced to deal with an armed, muscular Rangeman security tech, he had suddenly figured out his problem and no longer needed assistance.

"Do you need someone to go out and talk to him?" Ranger asked me over the phone one night after I started having Callahan's calls intercepted. He had been in Indianapolis for the past ten days, and I hadn't intended to tell him about Callahan until he'd returned home, but Tank had informed him during a briefing earlier that day.

"Not right now. I'm hoping that he'll get the message when he can't get ahold of me anymore," I said.

"Be careful, babe. Tank ran a deeper check on him, and nothing stood out, but that could just mean he hasn't been caught doing anything illegal. I don't think he seems like a dangerous threat, but possibly odd enough to turn into an annoying stalker."

I promised Ranger I would be vigilant and not hesitate to report if I had a problem to Tank or one of the other employees. He went on to tell me that he would only be home from Indianapolis for a day before he had to leave again on a protection detail for the government. He couldn't tell me who he was protecting or where he was going, but promised that he would only be gone three days. I was a little disappointed, but kept that sentiment to myself. Even though we'd made up after our fight a few weeks before, I was still conscious of anything I said in regards to his work, not wanting to piss him off again. He'd made it clear that while he would try to be more considerate, he had no intention of running every decision by me. There was nothing I could do but accept it.

"Do you ever think about getting married?" I blurted out before we wrapped up our call. Why I was bringing it up now, I couldn't guess. I hadn't intended to do so.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "You?"

I'd been left momentarily speechless by his admission.

"I've been thinking about it more often lately, especially when I think about how I've only ever been married to Dickie Orr, a man that I've realized I never really loved and who sure as hell never loved me. I think we got married because it was convenient for him and expected of me. But when I think about how much I love you, I can't imagine _not_ being married to you someday."

"Would it be a deal breaker for you if I never wanted to get married?" he asked.

I shrugged, then remembered that he couldn't see me. "I don't know. I don't think I would leave you if you never wanted to get married, but I wonder if I would be as happy."

"So you want to me consider marriage?"

"Are you willing to think about it? I'm not expecting a proposal tomorrow or anything, but I would like to put the idea out there."

He was quiet for a minute, leaving me in agonizing suspense. "I can't promise you that I'll want the same things you want, but I can promise to think about it."

"That's okay," I said. "As long as you're willing to think about it and not just automatically dismiss it because it's what you've always done."

The next four days passed at an agonizingly slow pace until finally reaching the fourteenth. Ranger's plane was due to land in Newark at nine-thirty that evening, which meant he wouldn't be home until eleven. He would be flying out of Newark again at eight the next night to wherever he was going for his protection trip, so I wanted to spend as many of those twenty-one hours as I could with him. I ended up having dinner at my parents' and stopped at my apartment on the way back to Ranger's to pick up my mail and a pair of shoes that I'd forgotten. Tomorrow's outfit wouldn't be the same without them.

I could tell that someone had been in my apartment as soon as I stepped foot inside my bedroom. I had made my bed that morning after putting on clean sheets, but the bed was now unmade. There were two large wet spots on the bed and two on my pillow that were unmistakably semen stains. I immediately pulled out my gun and did a search of my apartment to see if the intruder was still there, but found no one. An inventory of my belongings told me that my hairbrush, toothbrush, and my favorite pair of black lace underwear were missing. The shoes I'd forgotten were still on the chair in my bedroom, so I grabbed them and hurried out the door, dialing Ranger's number as I headed to my car.

"Someone's been in my apartment," I told him when he answered and described what I'd found.

"Go to my apartment. I'll have Tank do a walk-through to make sure that whoever broke in didn't plant any surveillance devices."

No need to tell me twice. The knowledge that some creep—John Callahan being the prime suspect—had masturbated all over my bed and had stolen some of my most personal items was making my stomach churn. I felt a little better once I was safely inside Ranger's apartment, but I still felt violated. I ended up knocking back three glasses of wine and passing out in front of the television, surprised to wake up the next morning in Ranger's bed with a pounding headache and an arm wrapped around me.

"Good morning," he said quietly. "How many glasses of wine did you have last night?"

"Too many," I grumbled. "Did Tank find anything in my apartment last night?"

"No surveillance equipment, but he grabbed your computer and Hector is checking it out. If Callahan was the intruder, he could have installed software on your computer to track what you do and to remotely turn on your webcam. Do you want to call the police this morning? I'm not sure that there would be enough justification for them to search Callahan's house at this point, but you can at least report the break-in and why you suspect that it was him."

I nodded and snuggled into Ranger, enjoying the feel of his arms and the scent of Bulgari for the first time in two weeks. For the moment, I just wanted to lay there with him and forget what had gone on at my apartment the day before. The snuggling turned into kissing, which lead to groping and two glorious rounds of sex before we had to get started with our day. I had back-to-back client meetings all day, so I blew Ranger a kiss as I hurried out the door to my first appointment.

I called the police first thing and filed a report of a break-in. The officer who had taken my call said someone would go out to the apartment to collect evidence and that they should be finished by the time I got off work that evening. I was to meet with an officer the next morning before work at the Trenton Police Station to give a full statement. The day passed quickly and I was immensely proud of the work I'd done. Between the three new clients who had chosen extensive video monitoring systems and the two existing clients who had contracted Rangeman to do background checks on their employees, I had pulled in $100,000 in new business in one day. Not bad for a relative newbie.

"Guess what?" I called out to Ranger as soon as I got into the apartment that evening. "I just brought in six figures in annual business today."

I walked through the apartment and found him standing at the island in the kitchen, his hands braced on the counter. The look on his face stopped me in my tracks.

"What?" I asked. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

He continued to stare at me for a few seconds before pushing something down the island towards me. It was a large manila envelope with strips of packing tape strapped across the front.

Oh, no. Oh, God. Holy shit. This wasn't really happening, was it?

"Tank found that envelope on the floor under your nightstand," he said quietly. "He figured it must be important if you were keeping it taped to the bottom. He brought it here in case Callahan made another visit to your apartment."

I held my breath for a moment, wondering what the next words out of his mouth would be. Had he opened the envelope and seen the reports, or did he suspect it was something I shouldn't have, but was waiting on me to confess?

"The monitoring room files a report everyday of any unusual activities that they see on the internal monitors," Ranger continued. "On your first day in HR, they had reported that you'd printed out a large document, put it in a manila envelope and put it in your purse. Normally, they wouldn't think anything of it, but you'd been acting strangely because you knew you were on camera, so they had thought I should know. You hadn't mentioned any problems to me, so in an effort to not smother you and always know your every move the way you'd requested, I didn't ask you about it. I figured if I needed to know, you'd tell me. But when Tank brought the same envelope to me and had told me about how you'd been hiding it, I became concerned and opened it."

He started pacing, which I knew was a terrible sign. It meant that I'd pushed him beyond the reach of his self-control. As he paced, he flexed his right hand, which was still rehabilitating from his injury in September.

"Did it tell you what you needed to know?" he asked.

"I never read them," I replied. "I printed them out because I intended to read them, but after I left I felt guilty, so I hid them until I could figure out what I was going to do. I'd decided a few weeks ago that I wasn't going to read them because we'd been doing so well. I felt like you were opening up to me, but then I found out that you hadn't told me about buying the Indy branch, and it made me wonder whether you were really opening up to me or if you were just trying to make me think you were, so I decided to hold on to them for a while longer."

"So it's my fault that you printed these out?" he asked. "Because I don't come home in the evening and tell you every single thing I did or every thought and feeling I had during the day? You knew this about me coming into this relationship, Stephanie. I told you that this would be an adjustment for me, but that I would try to be more open with you. And I think I've done a decent job of it. But you can't trust me to show you who I am in my own way, in my own time. Instead, you've once again crossed the lines of our personal and professional lives. You took it upon yourself to go behind my back and abuse the position that I gave you to try to find out more about me instead of just asking me."

"Excuse me?" I said with a humorless laugh. " _This_ coming from _you_? You've never really trusted me. You've hoarded every little bit of information about yourself, only giving me tiny little bread crumbs to either keep me interested in you enough to let you get in my pants or keep me willing to help you out on some job. You were the one who crossed the personal and the professional when you offered to help me capture Eddie DeChooch if I'd sleep with you. You've been running background checks and keeping tabs on me since the moment we met. You made sure you knew everything about me so you would know if I lied to you about anything. You've always had the upper hand in this relationship, and you always will. I'm willing to accept that there are some things I'll never know. I know there are things from your time in the Army that you can't talk about, either because of clearances or because it was so fucking awful that you can't even think about it, let alone talk about it. But you won't even let me know little things. I don't know your favorite movie or the name of your childhood pets. I don't know what political party you vote for or what your true feelings are on God and religion. I don't know how old you were when you lost your virginity or how many sexual partners you've had. Almost everything I know about you is related to you doing your job. I love you, and I want to marry you. I want to know better than anyone else does, and I want you to feel the same way about me. I knew what I was doing when I printed those evaluations out, but maybe if you would trust me enough to get to know the real you, then I wouldn't have been desperate enough to do this."

"When have I ever lied to you? When have I given you a reason not to trust me?" he asked, walking over to stand directly in front of me.

"I've never caught you lying to me, but I guess I couldn't really know because you never tell me anything."

We started at each other for what felt like an eternity, neither of us wanting to break eye contact.

"Why is it so hard for you to just listen to me and believe what I say?" he asked. "Why do you have to question and second-guess everything I tell you?"

"Because I'm not one of your soldiers, Ranger," I said, stepping forward so that we were only inches apart. "I'm your entertainment, remember? I keep life interesting with my stalkers, firebombed apartment, and destroyed cars. I even let you fuck me."

Ranger pinned me against the counter and braced his hands on either side of my body. The anger radiating from him seemed to fill the entire apartment. I was surprised that he hadn't combusted.

"I don't _fuck_ you," he said quietly. "I make love to you. Those are two _very_ different things. And your stalkers and explosions and near-misses are the furthest thing from entertainment for me. They scare the hell out of me. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Stephanie, but you also cause me the most pain."

He stepped back from me and turned away, giving me the opportunity to wipe the tears from my eyes.

"Everything I've done for you hasn't been enough to prove to you that you can trust me?" he asked quietly, still not looking at me. "I've put my life on the line for you. I've held a woman at gun point. I've killed in your defense. I've even _murdered_ a man to keep you alive. Do you have any idea how much of the shit that weighs on my conscience is stuff that I've done for you?" He turned around to face me again, and I saw the vulnerability in his expression. "Don't you realize that I'm haunted by every one of those things, even though I did them to keep you alive and would do them again without hesitation? I told you last month that you can bring me to my knees, and it was the truth, Stephanie. Why can't you believe me when I tell you that? I love you. God knows I tried not to, but I couldn't help myself."

His phone buzz with a text message, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to read it.

"I have to go. I don't know what all of this is going to mean for us," he said, putting his phone back into his pocket. "You wanted me to think about marriage, but I'm trying to figure out how the hell we could get married if we can't trust each other. I'll be gone for three days, so you'd better decide by the time I get back if you're going to trust me because I'm not having this conversation again. And I'll try to figure out if I can trust you, because right now I don't know. I don't know if I can trust you in our relationship, but you've made it clear to me that I can't trust you professionally. So consider yourself fired."

I flinched as though he'd just slapped me. He was actually _firing_ me from my job? And he wasn't sure if he could even trust me enough to remain in a relationship with me? I wasn't a complete idiot —I'd known that if he learned about me having the evaluations that he would be upset with me and there would be some trust issues, but I guess I hadn't really expected this magnitude. Every other argument we'd had seemed to get resolved once we actually talked to each other, but this was different. We'd both said some really big things, things that couldn't be unsaid. But could they be fixed?

"Read them," Ranger said, throwing the envelope at me. I caught as it bounced off my chest and held it against me. "I hope they're worth all of this to you."

I heard him walk through the apartment, pick up the suitcase that had been in the hallway, and the apartment door shut behind him a few seconds later. I stood in the kitchen and held the envelope for a few minutes before pulling myself out of my stupor. I looked down at the thing that had been haunting me for months, which had led to me losing my job, and now possibly losing Ranger. I opened it and pulled out the papers inside, deciding to find out if the information was worth the possibility of losing the love of my life.

 _Psychological Evaluation_

 _Confidential_

 _Name: Ricardo Carlos Manoso_

 _Birthdate: August 12, 1980_

 _Age: 27 years, 2 months_

 _Gender: Male_

 _Report Writer: Dr. Phillip Drewe_

 _Date of report: November 2, 2008_

 _Instruments Administered:_

 _Clinical interview_

 _The DISC Assessment_

 _Stanford-Binet Intelligence Scale (administered in 2001)._

 _Reason For Referral_

 _Mr. Ricardo Manoso is a 28 year-old, heterosexual, Latino male who has presented for assessment as part of his preparation for future employment requirements within his own business._

 _Personal and Family History_

 _Mr. Manoso provided the following information. Mr. Manoso was born in Newark, NJ to first-generation Cuban-American parents and is the youngest of seven children (four older sisters, one older brother, and one deceased twin sister). The youngest of his older sisters was born with Down Syndrome. His parents have been married for 36 years. His mother has been employed as a nurse in Labor & Delivery at Newark General Hospital for the past 27 years and his father is a self-employed contractor. Mr. Manoso was raised by both parents in a bilingual home until the age of 14, when he committed a crime and spent six months in juvenile detention. Upon his release, his parents sent him to live in Miami with his maternal grandmother, who was his primary caregiver until he graduated high school three years later. Mr. Manoso reported he was a fraternal twin and the product of a premature delivery. His mother had been in a car accident at 32 weeks pregnant, which resulted in an emergency c-section. His twin sister died from injuries sustained in the accident minutes after birth. Mr. Manoso reportedly suffered no health problems as a result of the accident or premature birth, though he reported that he was below average height and weight until he reached puberty. Mr. Manoso reported that he has a good relationship with his family, though he only sees most of them a few times a year. He maintains regular contact with his sister who has Down Syndrome. No history of abuse or neglect from family, but reported that he was frequently beaten by peers in elementary school. No history of health problems was reported. No medications are currently prescribed. Mr. Manoso reported that while on leave from the Army in 2001, he had a one-night stand with the younger sister of one of his unit members. She became pregnant from the encounter and Mr. Manoso married her at her request so that their child would not be born out of wedlock. He reported that neither he nor his ex-wife desired to have an actual relationship and knew they would divorce after the birth. The child, a girl, was born in 2002, and Mr. Manoso and his wife divorced soon after. Mr. Manoso reported that his ex-wife remarried in 2004 and requested that her new husband be allowed to adopt their daughter. Mr. Manoso reported that he voluntarily terminated his rights and that his daughter's adoption was completed in 2005. Mr. Manoso reported that while he feels a "moral and financial" obligation to his daughter, he keeps himself emotionally distanced from her as to not interfere with her relationship with her adoptive father and that should something happen to him, she would not feel his loss as profoundly as she might otherwise. He reported that he sends gifts for her birthday and Christmas, and visits when invited by his ex-wife, which usually occurs 3-4 times a year. Mr. Manoso reported he has not had a meaningful romantic relationship since college and has not had any long-term involvement with any one woman since his marriage. He reported that he has a few close friends, but trusts those few friends implicitly. _

_Educational and Occupational History_

 _Mr. Manoso began school at the expected time. He reported that he was an average student in elementary school, but had some incidents with other students who would bully him for being small. He did not have any other behavioral problems and respected teachers' authority. In middle school, his grades began to decline as he got involved with peers who experimented with illegal substances and committed petty crimes. There were increased incidents of fighting at school and oppositional behavior with authority figures. Most of his freshman year was spent receiving his education in a juvenile detention center. Upon release, he moved to Miami and finished his education. Mr. Manoso reported that he made straight-As throughout high school and graduated valedictorian of his class in 1998. He moved back to Newark after graduation and attended two years at Rutgers-Newark, where he majored in business. He did not finish his degree, as he opted to join the Army in 2001. He qualified for Ranger school in the Army and spent the nearly all of his career in Special Forces. He learned several languages while in the Army. He earned several commendations and medals during his Army career. He finished his tour of duty in 2006 and opted to return to civilian life. From 2006-2007, Mr. Manoso worked as a security technician for a firm in Miami and also provided bond enforcement services for his cousin's bail bonds agency. He returned to New Jersey in 2007 and moved to Trenton, where he continued his work in bond enforcement while building his own security company. He reported that his business has become successful quickly and that he is in the process of renovating a seven-story office building to house his company along with a personal apartment and apartments for employee use. He reported that he has been approached by small firms in Boston and Miami who are interested in his security style and that he is in the process of buying into the companies. He reported that he continues to do bond enforcement because it provides him with large sums of money quickly, though he does not intend to continue the service for much longer. He reported that he plans to incorporate within the next year._

 _Health History_

 _Mr. Manoso denied having a history of health problems other than premature birth. He sustained injuries during his time in Special Forces, including three, non-life-threatening gunshot wounds, stabbing to the abdomen that did not require surgery, and three days of torture, including broken bones and waterboarding, after being captured in Colombia. He reported he does not have any residual difficulties from any of these injuries and that he recovered quickly due to his good physical health. He reported that he adheres to a fairly strict diet four days a week, allowing himself to relax the diet somewhat from Friday to Sunday. He reported that he exercises between five to seven hours per week._

 _Substance Abuse History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported that he first tried cigarettes at age 12 and smoked occasionally throughout his teenage years. He reported to have smoked between one to two packs of cigarettes a week during his two years of college, but quit in order to prepare for Army physicals. He reported having first tried alcohol at 14 and used it occasionally throughout high school. He reported drinking to various points of intoxication 1-2 days per week during his first year of college and then 1-2 times per month during his second year. He also experimented with cocaine and used marijuana recreationally during college. During his time in the Army, Mr. Manoso reported spending most of his leave times during his Army career intoxicated to varying degrees. He reported that once he returned to civilian life, he was better able to control his drinking habits. He reported that he has not used any illegal drugs since before joining the Army, and that he currently consumes 3-5 drinks per week, preferring wine or beer. He reported that he only has one drink in any given day and often does not finish it._

 _Legal History_

 _Mr. Manoso was arrested in 1994 for stealing a car, which was part of a gang initiation. He plead guilty and was sentenced to six months in juvenile detention. Mr. Manoso reported that he did not have any more legal issues until returning to civilian life. He reported he has been arrested twice for carrying a concealed weapon without a permit in Florida (2006) and New Jersey (2007) though all charges were eventually dropped due to the nature of his job and his record from the military._

 _Mental Status Examination_

 _Mr. Manoso presented as a well-nourished, physically fit male of above average height (6'0") and average weight (185 pounds). His attire was business casual and his hygiene very neat. His gait and posture were normal. He was hyperaware of the surroundings. Rapport was calculated on his end, but maintained. When asked about his mood, Mr. Manoso reported he generally felt content with his life at the moment. No reports of manic or depressive episodes. He was fully aware of time, place, and person. His speech was clear and coherent. He was careful and guarded in answering questions, not out of a difficulty of processing the question, but of monitoring his disclosures. There appeared to be no difficulties with recent, remote or immediate memory or concentration. His insight into his personality and problems was very good, aware that he maintained emotional detachment from others and that it was not typical. He reported that he can be impatient with others when they do not meet his expectations. His thoughts were organized and coherent. He denied having past or present thoughts of harming himself or others. He reported that after returning from war, he suffered nightmares, anger outbursts, and avoidance behaviors for several months, but sought treatment with a psychologist, who diagnosed him Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Treatment was terminated after six months and he has remained largely symptom-free since. He did not use medication as part of his treatment protocol despite recommendations from the psychologist. He denied any phobias, obsessions or compulsions. He denied having problems concentrating. Mr. Manoso appears to be functioning in the high range of intellectual abilities. According to a Stanford-Binet Intelligence Scale administered in 2001, Mr. Manoso's IQ measures at 136, which falls in the "gifted" category._

 _Behavior Observations_

 _Mr. Manoso approached the testing session in a cooperative, but guarded manner. He remained guardedly relaxed during the interview. No fidgeting or nervous gestures. His affect was neutral, but within appropriate range. He maintained good eye contact during the interview. He was vigilant, but cooperative while answering questions._

 _DISC Assessment_

 _The DISC Assessment was completed via self-reporting test to determine personality type. The results showed that Mr. Manoso fell into the Creative pattern with Dominance (D) and Conscientiousness (C) as equally dominant traits. Influence (I) and Steadiness (S) fell below the midline._

 _The D/C personality type is resourceful, desires authority and aims high in goals. This type also prefers working alone and pushing themselves mentally and physically as far as they can. They are innovative, but calculated in their risk-taking. They have a tendency to be perfectionists, as they are very logical and critical. This type is organized, efficient, and decisive, but can struggle with social expectations that do not directly impact their goal-attainment. Conversations with others are brief and succinct, only necessary for achieving what is needed. This type tends to be very blunt, sometimes to the point of being perceived as rude or uncaring. D/C types are highly motivated by a personal desire for achievement or success, but it can be difficult to tell what else motivates this type due to a highly unexpressive nature._

 _Summary_

 _Mr. Manoso is a 28 year-old male who is starting his own security business. He is considering a requirement of psychological evaluations for all employees to determine mental status at the time of hiring and periodically throughout employment. Mr. Manoso presents as mentally intact, not a danger to himself or others. He presents with emotional detachment, which is a likely result of his personality type (D/C) and a history of Posttraumatic Stress Disorder._

 _Diagnostic Impressions - DSM-IV_

 _Axis I: 309.81 Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (by history)._

 _Axis II: None_

 _Axis III: None_

 _Axis IV: None_

 _Axis V: 90_

 _Recommendations_

 _1\. Mr. Manoso would benefit from more recreational and social activities to help foster deeper attachments to people in his life and to provide himself with more meaningful activities than his work._

 _2\. Mr. Manoso may benefit from individual therapy to explore his difficulties with developing deeper relationships and his significant need for control._

 _Respectfully submitted,_

 _Dr. Phillip Drewe_

 _Psychological Evaluation-Addendum_

 _Confidential_

 _Name: Ricardo Carlos Manoso_

 _Birthdate: August 12, 1980_

 _Age: 32 years, 1 month_

 _Gender: Male_

 _Report Writer: Dr. Phillip Drewe_

 _Date of report: September 29, 2013_

 _Instruments Administered:_

 _Clinical interview_

 _Reason For Referral_

 _Mr. Manoso returned under his own volition five years after the initial evaluation. This examination was prompted by a recent life-threatening situation, which is a requirement of his business._

 _Personal and Family History_

 _When asked about changes to his personal or family history, Mr. Manoso reported that since his last evaluation, he has developed a complex relationship with a woman. She was introduced to him in 2010 when she sought help learning the bond enforcement field. Mr. Manoso reported that the woman was "out of her league" and that he helped her in the beginning because he felt sorry for her and he didn't expect she would last long. Mr. Manoso reported that the woman stayed in her job and continued to seek his advice, which led to the development of a friendship that was accompanied by sexual tension. Mr. Manoso reported that this woman has been in an off-and-on relationship with a police officer since shortly after he met her. Mr. Manoso acknowledged that he had a one-time sexual encounter with her a year ago, after which he realized that he was in love with her. He reported that he told her that he needed to keep his distance and that they had agreed they shouldn't continue a sexual relationship, as she was struggling with her feelings for the police officer and he did not feel prepared to begin a committed relationship. They have continued their friendship and assisted each other out in their respective jobs in the time since. When asked to elaborate on his feelings for his friend, Mr. Manoso reported that he would do anything for her and that if he were to ever settle into a committed relationship, it would be with her. Six weeks prior to this interview, Mr. Manoso's 10 year-old daughter was kidnapped by a mentally ill man who had become obsessed with him. Mr. Manoso had allowed himself to be portrayed as the kidnapper to allow himself and the FBI to search for the man, who they had hoped would make a mistake and be caught because he thought people were looking for Mr. Manoso. Mr. Manoso's relationship with his female friend had been discovered by this man and she had become a target as well. She allowed herself to be kidnapped in order to help track down the suspect and retrieve Mr. Manoso's daughter. Mr. Manoso was shot several times when he confronted the suspect, who was holding his daughter and friend at the time. Mr. Manoso reported that the only reason he was alive was because his daughter tackled the suspect just as he was about to shoot Mr. Manoso in the head. She shot the suspect and the police quickly intervened. Mr. Manoso reported his daughter and friend were not injured._

 _Educational and Occupational History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported that his security business has been thriving in the five years since the previous evaluation. He incorporated in 2009 and now has offices in Trenton, Boston, Atlanta, and Miami._

 _Health History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported he was shot in the leg in 2010 while helping his friend capture a man who had failed to appear in court. He was shot in the arm in 2011 in a similar circumstance. Six weeks ago, while rescuing his kidnapped daughter, Mr. Manoso was shot four times while wearing Kevlar. One bullet penetrated and splintered a rib and one went through the side of his neck. He underwent surgery and is expected to make a full recovery._

 _Substance Abuse History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported no change in substance use since the previous report._

 _Legal History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported that he was once again arrested for carrying concealed without a permit in New Jersey in 2010, but charges were dropped. He has since been granted a permit to carry concealed. He was also arrested on a similar charge in Nevada in 2011, but charges were dropped due to improper procedure by the arresting officer._

 _Mental Status Examination_

 _Mr. Manoso presented similarly to his previous evaluation. There was slight discomfort noted during the evaluation due to an injured rib. It was noted that he was more expressive during this interview than the previous, especially when discussing his female friend. Mr. Manoso was evaluated for any symptoms of Acute Stress Disorder, but he did not present with any symptoms. He reported feeling slightly depressed and anxious in the past six weeks, but nothing that interfered with his ability to function or would not be expected given his injuries and situation in which they were obtained._

 _Behavior Observations_

 _Mr. Manoso was calm and relaxed during the interview with the exception of slight discomfort from his injured rib. He maintained good eye contact and displayed a greater range of emotion than he did during the previous interview._

 _Summary_

 _Mr. Manoso is a 33 year-old male who owns his own business. He does not present with any mental disorders following a life-threatening incident. He does present as less rigid and more expressive than at the previous assessment, likely due to a friendship he has developed in the last three years._

 _Diagnostic Impressions - DSM-IV_

 _Axis I: 309.81 Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (by history)._

 _Axis II: None_

 _Axis III: Recent gunshot wounds_

 _Axis IV: None_

 _Axis V: 90_

 _Recommendations_

 _Mr. Manoso would benefit from individual therapy to explore in greater detail his feelings in relation to a female friend and why he does not pursue a committed relationship with her despite having the desire to do so._

 _Respectfully submitted,_

 _Dr. Phillip Drewe_

Nothing.

Those evaluations hadn't told me anything that I didn't already know about Ranger's personality or history, with the exception of his premature birth and dead twin sister. I'd thrown my job, and most likely my relationship, away for nothing. The realization of everything I'd done hit me like a truck, and I sobbed as I picked myself up from the floor and moved through the apartment. I gathered all my personal belongings and packed them in my messenger bag and the duffle bag I'd kept in Ranger's closet. I left the iPad, my Rangeman identification, and my key fob on the side table in the foyer. If Ranger couldn't trust me to work for him, I had little doubt he would be able to trust me enough to continue on in our relationship. And I couldn't blame him. I had betrayed his trust, both as my employer and my boyfriend. And for a man like Ranger, it didn't get any worse than that.

 _ **A/N: To quote Luke from Modern Family: "Sometimes I like to just toss a grenade and run away".**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N:. This chapter is from Ranger's POV.**_

I threw my suitcase in the back of the SUV and climbed in the front seat next to Tank. I knew I'd slammed the door, but didn't look in his direction as he pulled out of the garage. The anger and pain coursing through me was so intense that I could feel it in my muscles. A headache was threatening and my hand was throbbing.

"Talk," Tank said after five minutes on the road.

"It's personal," I replied.

"You've been my friend longer than you've been my boss, so I'm allowed to ask personal questions," he said. "Tell me what happened with Stephanie. Because if you get on a plane in this mood, you'll snap the neck of the first person to hit you with their carry-on or recline their seat in your lap, and then I'll be stuck running the company and trying to figure out how to bust you out of prison."

It took me a few minutes to think about whether I wanted to talk this out. We'd been friends since we served together in Iraq, and we'd seen it all together. All but this, anyway. He'd never seen me in an actual relationship.

"I opened that envelope you gave me," I said as we hit Route 1. "I found out that while she was working in HR, she accessed my personnel file and printed out my psych evaluations."

Tank let out a low whistle. "Damn. So what happened?"

"I confronted her about it right before we left. She told me that she'd never read them, that she had felt guilty afterwards and decided to just hold onto them until she could make up her mind to read them or get rid of them. She said I never tell her anything and that I 'hoard' information about myself, only giving her enough to keep her interested. She said she'd been desperate to know more about me and that it isn't fair that I know everything about her because I'd run background checks on her when we first met."

"What did you say to that?"

"That I've never lied to her and that I can't understand why she doesn't trust me. She knew all of this about me before we even started our relationship. I asked her why she can't just take me at my word and give me time to open up to her as I feel like it."

"Yeah, and how many lifetimes would that take?" Tank asked sarcastically.

I glared at him, but he ignored me, keeping his focus on the road.

"She told that she's not 'one of my soldiers'. Then she pissed me off by saying that she's just a woman who lets me fuck her and provides entertainment with all of her disasters." That part of her argument had really bothered me. I was tempted to put my hand through the windshield just so I'd feel better.

"And?"

"I told her I was pissed off that she abused her job— _the job I gave her_ —to try to find out personal information about me. Then I fired her and told her I wasn't sure what was going to happen with us because I didn't know if I could trust her."

"Wait," Tank said, finally looking in my direction. "You _fired_ your girlfriend?"

"Yes, I did," I replied. "It's what I would have done to anyone else who misused company property and abused their position to dig up information for personal use."

The look Tank gave me told me that he wasn't entirely on my side. "What?!" I demanded.

"First of all, Stephanie isn't just _anyone else._ Secondly, I have to admit that I think she had some valid points. I've known you a long time, and I know what and how much you let people see. Do you know you have four sides?"

Owning all of those cats had finally done it—Tank had turned into a woman.

"No, but I imagine you're going to tell me."

Tank inhaled and spoke rapidly as he merged onto the Turnpike. "There's Carlos, the man your family knows. The son and brother who tries to be around, but keeps his distance because he grew up away from the rest of the family and doesn't always know how to relate to them anymore. Then there's Ranger the soldier. He commands his men with the expectation of his orders being followed without question, but he'll also have their backs until the end. He gives chances to the people who have been overlooked by everyone else in the world. Because of that, every man who works for him would put his life on the line for him. There's Ranger the friend, the smartass, pussy-magnet who would do anything for you and can look past the obvious to see you for who you really are. Then there's the man you don't want to show to anyone. He's the one you keep locked up tight inside you because you think he's a weakness. You think if anyone sees that part of you that your men won't respect you, your friends won't like you, your family would be ashamed, and suddenly none of these people would want you around. So far, only showing certain sides of yourself to particular groups of people has worked because there isn't much overlap between them. But Stephanie is different. You can't just show her one side of yourself. She has to know all four sides, but you won't let her in. You expect her to just be happy with whatever you give her, just like everyone else. In fact, I think you expect her to be grateful that she gets to know you as the boss, the friend, and the family guy, so she should just shut up about trying to know that fourth guy because you're not going to let that happen."

It took me several seconds to process everything he'd just said and to formulate an appropriate response.

"Fuck you, Dr. Phil."

"I'm not saying that what Stephanie did was right, because it wasn't. It was shitty," Tank said, not seeming too afraid that I might slit his throat after that lecture. "But she was right that you don't seem to trust her enough to let her know the real you—the _whole_ you. And you can't have a relationship like that. Believe me, I know. Charlotte and I went through something similar, but when she called me out on my shit and told me that if I didn't change she was leaving, I stepped up and changed my ways. I let her see all of me, and she loved me even more — even when she knew the bad stuff."

Tank had never questioned any decision I'd ever made when it had come to Stephanie's well-being. He'd never once asked if she was worth the hassle because he knew how I felt about her and what would happen to me if she died. I'd been there the day Charlotte's mother had called him to say she'd been killed in a car accident. I'd been the one talking to him as he held a gun to his head, ready to end it all because he'd thought he had nothing to live for without her. I had taken the gun from him the minute he dropped his arm, and he'd hugged me as he cried, sounding like an animal dying in agony. He had never allowed himself to get serious about anyone else after Charlotte. The longest relationship he'd had since was Lula, and he hadn't loved her. She'd just been fun to hang out with and could be counted on for a wild night of sex any time he wanted it. Charlotte had been it for him, the way Stephanie was it for me. Men like us didn't fall in love easily.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I said as we reached the airport. "Shit, this is why I haven't been involved with anyone in years. I wish she would have emptied a clip into me instead. I know how to handle that."

"Fuckin' A," Tank replied as he pulled to a stop in the drop-off zone. "But the point is that you love Stephanie. You'd give her everything from this life and the next if she needed it. Do you really think you can walk away from her? And if you can't, do you think your relationship can withstand you firing her? You can't trust her in one area of life but not others. You either trust her or you don't. Figure that shit out while you're watching Grande's ass."

William Grande was the senior Senator from Virginia. He'd been Special Forces during Vietnam, had come home from war and spent twenty years as a Beltway lawyer before being elected to Congress. He was an arrogant son of a bitch, but he had good instincts. That was why he was the one being sent to begin serious negotiations to lift the economic embargo with Cuba. He would know if his Cuban counterparts were just taking him for a ride or if they were serious about making the changes necessary to reopen trade for the first time in over fifty years. We were meeting the Cuban delegation in the Bahamas for a top-secret, two-day meeting. Ramon and Bobby were already in Nassau doing checks on the cars and the hotel while I was to escort the Senator from D.C. Because I was operating on a government contract, I was permitted to bring my weapons on the plane, but was asked to keep them far out of sight to avoid panic.

The flight to D.C. was uneventful, giving me needed time to clear my head and get prepared for my assignment. I would give myself time to think about Stephanie and everything that had happened once the Senator was settled for the night. I had to be _Ranger the soldier,_ as Tank had put it.

Fucker. I may have to fire him for that comment.

At Dulles, I was greeted by a perky, twenty-five year-old redhead named Jackie Paluch, the Senator's aide.

"Mr. Manoso?" she asked, looking surprised when I approached. "I -I'm, um, J-jackie Paluch. Senator Grande's, um-um, aide!" she cried out, laughing nervously as she finally remembered her job title.

I made myself as pleasant as possible as I listened to her ramble on about the Senator's itinerary, as if I didn't already have it memorized. She continued to stumble over her words and laughed nervously whenever she misspoke. I was aware of the effect I had on women—they thought I was sexy and imagined me naked. They wondered what I could do to them if we got naked together. Before I'd gotten serious about my business, I'd had sex with any woman I wanted. I knew how to smile and make them want me. I knew the right things to say and how to look at them as I spoke. I knew how to use my silence to my advantage. Jackie was cute, and five years ago, I'd have gotten her into bed once the job was over. But things were differently now. Meeting Stephanie Plum had changed me, whether she believed it or not.

I wasn't the only changed man. When I boarded the Gulfstream, Senator Grande was already on board. Usually, he'd give you a dismissive greeting, not even looking up as he read through whatever reports were pressing at the moment. Today, he was drinking a scotch and gazing out the window. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked like hell.

"Manoso, thanks for coming along," he said, extending a hand to me as I took a seat next to him. I shook it, wondering what sort of alternate universe I'd stepped into. "You're Cuban, aren't you? Did your family leave during the Revolution?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded lazily and handed his glass to the flight attendant when she informed us that take-off was in five minutes and that we would need to fasten our seatbelts. He was unusually quiet and still during the flight, not barking orders at his assistant or reading anything the way he usually did. Instead, he stared out the window and twisted his wedding ring around on his finger. I could tell Jackie was nervous and unsure of herself, which told me that the change in his demeanor was new. Once the seatbelt sign went off, Jackie got up and went to the back of the plane, digging through the small cabinet where we had stored our carry-ons during take-off. I followed her to the back of the plane and reached for my own bag.

"What's going on with the Senator?" I asked Jackie quietly.

She took a second to get herself together to be able to speak to me. "Did you know his wife died last month?" she asked in a whispered voice.

"No," I replied. I hadn't done an up-to-date dossier on Grande because I'd just seen him a year ago. I'd focused my planning on the nature of the trip.

"She got sick four months ago, and he took off work to be with her. She'd been given almost a year, but ended up killing herself when things started to get bad. He hasn't been the same since he came back three weeks ago. He doesn't yell or make me feel like an idiot. He doesn't come into the office until eight and leaves at five. He used to be in the office sixteen hours a day, and expected me to be there with him the entire time. I lost my boyfriend because of this job, and now suddenly he's acting like a normal human being. I don't know what to do because I don't know if this is temporary or not."

I took my bag back to my seat and read through reports on my iPad while I watched Grande through my peripheral vision. I could have massacred everyone on board the plane and he wouldn't have noticed. I had never heard anything about Grande's relationship with his wife. I had known he was married, but had never bothered to think about his wife because I had assumed a man who acted like that and worked that much never bothered to think about her either.

The flight and the trip to the hotel were uneventful. After I got Grande settled in his room, he thanked me and bid me a goodnight. Ramon was standing guard outside the room for the overnight while Bobby and I would be in rooms across the hall.

"I thought this Grande was supposed to be a real ball-busting asshole," Bobby asked. "Are you sure we picked up the right guy?"

"His wife died last month," I informed him.

Bobby shook his head in disbelief and headed into his room without comment. I went into the room next door and got ready for bed, finally letting my thoughts go back to Stephanie. I didn't understand why she couldn't trust me, after everything we'd been through. Morelli had gotten a woman pregnant while they were together. He'd never demanded commitment out of her. He had kept their relationship open so that if Stephanie found out he was sleeping with someone else, he could say that they weren't exclusive. But when it had been Stephanie who had slept with me, it had been cheating. It was the sexual double standard I'd heard my sisters complain about their entire lives. I knew I wasn't the most sensitive man on the planet, and that sometimes I probably lapsed into a macho Cuban man wanting to protect my woman and expecting her to follow my orders without question, but I respected Stephanie more than Joe Morelli ever did. I loved her more than he ever did. And I'd done more for her than he ever dreamed of doing. So why did it feel like she trusted me less than she had trusted him when they were together?

 _Because he opened up to her. She didn't have to beg him to tell her about his day or what he was thinking, you idiot._

When had my conscience started sounding like Tank?

I'd felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart when I'd realized what she had done. The violation of trust had scared me more than what she would have learned from the evaluations. There wasn't anything in those reports that she didn't already know. I knew Stephanie was nosy and that she was always interested in knowing more about me, but I had never imagined she would stoop to that point. And then she blamed me and called me a hypocrite when I confronted her about it, telling me that I don't trust her. I trusted her with my life—I didn't think trust could get any deeper than that.

 _But you don't trust her with your heart and soul, and that's what people in relationships do._

Tank was going to die the first chance I had to kill him.

I pulled up a picture that Stephanie had taken of herself and saved on my phone because _that's what boyfriends do in the twenty-first century_ , she had said. I loved this woman more than I could say, but I couldn't figure out how to move forward. Yes, she had violated my trust, but I knew she was telling the truth about why she had done it. I knew that she wouldn't do anything like that again, and I knew if my life were on the line, she would do anything she could to help me. But she had high expectations of me and our relationship. Not just for fidelity and security, but for the deep stuff. The stuff I hadn't let anyone near since I'd left for the Army. I didn't know if I could even do that again. In the years since my last real relationship, I'd killed men, and held friends in my arms as they died. I had withstood torture and evaded certain death. I'd gone to the places no one else had wanted to go, and had seen what truly horrible things humans can do to each other. I'd slept with women to get information on their fathers, brothers, husbands, and boyfriends. I had broken the law more times than I could even begin to count. I'd given my daughter to another man to raise, partly because I knew he would be a much better father than me, but also because I knew being a father at that time in my life would disrupt the plans I'd made. I was a control freak, because control of myself and those who looked to me for guidance had often been all I had going for me a lot of the time. I had been a well-tuned machine until Stephanie had come into my life. I had kept my emotions in check, not letting myself get too attached to anyone. Then I met her, and she made life interesting, but I'd still been able to keep my feelings towards her limited to a professional friendship. Until the day she'd accompanied me to Rossini's and my lawyer had mentioned her marriage to Dickie Orr. For the briefest second, I saw a woman who'd had her heart broken. Even if she hadn't really loved him, she had trusted him to become her husband and to save himself for her only. Instead, he'd nailed anything woman who looked his way. Then she'd asked me about whether I'd been married, and in that moment, I had made the decision to trust her with one of my most closely guarded secrets. Only Tank had known about Julie at the time, and trusting Stephanie enough to share that part of my life with her had opened my eyes to my feelings. I'd been a goner after that.

The Senator was meeting the Cuban delegation at the private residence of a Swiss diplomat. Both my team and the security team from Cuba had completed a thorough assessment of the property and declared it secure. I stood guard at the front door alongside a man that rivaled Tank in size. He kept glancing in my direction, looking me over as though sizing me up for a fight. He'd done his homework and knew I was Cuban, asking me when my family had left Cuba. He went to insult my grandparents and their decision to flee during the Revolution. I ignored him after that, which only pissed him off, and resulted in him hurling insults at me just as the door opened and the Cuban delegation stepped out. I escorted the Senator to the SUV we'd driven from the hotel while the top Cuban delegate chewed the man out for acting like an idiot on a diplomatic mission.

The Senator ordered up room service for dinner and didn't leave his hotel room until the next morning, as we headed back to the house for day two of talks. He had barely said more than ten words to me the entire trip, which was normally something I preferred, but out of him it was unsettling. I felt like I was staring at the shell of the man he used to be. A different guard stood out front with me today, one who didn't even look in my direction except when I pulled out my phone to check the text message that had come through from Tank.

 _The police went to Callahan's house today and he confessed to being the guy who broke into Stephanie's apartment. Charged with illegal entry, sexual misconduct, and theft_. _Restraining order and psych evaluation ordered at arraignment. $50,000 bond, but no one's willing to post out of respect for Stephanie._

 _ **How is she doing?**_

 _Haven't seen her. I just got the information from a clerk I know. I put her in for a sick day on Friday in case you decide to get your head out of your ass and let her have her job back on Monday._

 _ **Your ass is the next to go. Maybe Dr. Phil will hire you since you're such a relationship expert.**_

 _Fuck you too._

I had less than twenty-hours before I'd be back in Trenton. I needed to know what I was going to do by the time I saw Stephanie again, and I still wasn't sure what I could do. Going on like nothing had happened wasn't an option. I knew what she wanted, and I had serious doubts about whether I could even come close to being that man. But the idea of letting her go made me sick to my stomach.

After eating dinner in his hotel room, Grande informed me that he wanted to go down to the hotel bar for a drink. He smelled like he had already knocked back a few, but I accompanied him into the bar while Ramon sat outside the entrance. Grande sat down at a table that I recommended, which allowed me to have an unobstructed view of the room. He ordered a whiskey and drank it slowly, staring mindlessly into the glass. I scanned the room while he finished the glass and ordered a second.

"You were Special Forces in the Army, right?" he asked me while he waited for his drink.

"Yes, sir."

He nodded absentmindedly and thanked the server who brought his second drink a minute later. "So was I in Vietnam, though when I came home from war I was spit on, told to kill myself, and hated for my service. No one cared that I was terrified of anyone of Eastern Asian descent for five years after I came home, that fireworks were my personal hell, or that I would have such horrible nightmares that I pissed the bed and punched holes in my walls. They didn't treat you for PTSD in those days."

My family knew that all too well. I'd had two uncles who had fought in Vietnam, willing to put their lives on the line for their adoptive country. One had been paralyzed and the other had been held as a POW for over year. Both of them had committed suicide within two years of their respective returns.

"The Cubans are full of shit," he said after another few minutes. "They have no real intentions of meeting our expectations in order to lift the embargo."

"So the trip was a waste of your time," I said.

He shook his head. "No, it wasn't. I'm glad I came. I had to try, even if it didn't go anywhere."

He sat quietly for another few minutes before reaching into his pocket and opening up his wallet. I'd assumed he was going to pay his tab, but instead he pulled out a photo.

"My Maria was Cuban," he said as he stared at the picture. "Her family fled Cuba when she was two months old and moved to Miami. Even though her parents had always railed against Castro and had supported the embargo until he was overthrown, she had always hoped to be able to go back to the place where she was born. She hated the idea of never being able to take our children to see where part of their family came from."

"Your assistant told me that she recently passed away. I'm sorry for your loss."

Grande tossed back the second whiskey and ordered up a third before he spoke again.

"She was my boss's paralegal at my first law firm in D.C. She was funny, intelligent, and put every man in his place who tried to call her some cute little name. I wanted her so badly I could taste it, but I didn't think I could handle a relationship. The only way I kept the nightmares and hallucinations away was by burying myself in work, and I couldn't have a relationship if I worked all the time. It took a year and a half before we finally had a date, and it only happened because she asked me. She told me she'd been tired of waiting for me to make the first move. I did what I could to keep her happy, but I kept myself distant enough for her not to know about the nightmares and hallucinations. I cut out of work earlier so that I could take her out a couple of nights a week. I never spent the night at her place, and if she spent the night with me I didn't sleep. After three years, she told me that if I wasn't going to marry her, then she was going to have to move on. I knew I shouldn't do it, but I was selfish. I didn't want to lose her. So I married her."

The third whiskey arrived, but he didn't drink it right away. He stared at the table between as he continued to talk. I had a feeling he wasn't entirely aware that I was still there. "Eventually, we had three kids while I worked eighty-hour weeks. I wanted to be there more. I tried not working so much, but I had a nightmare one night and when Maria tried to wake me up, I hit her. I was a mess, but she kept telling me she was fine and that it had just been an accident. So I went back to working eighty-hour weeks. I tried to make up for being gone by making enough money so that we could have a bigger house, a nanny, private schools, and vacations in the Caribbean every summer. I loved my wife, but I always thought she was happier when I was busy and she could live the life she wanted. It made me angry that I couldn't be with my family the way I wanted to be. She wanted me to go to counseling, but by that point I was planning to run for Congress. I figured it would come out somehow, so I didn't go because I didn't want to risk the election. I got elected, and I was still working eighty-hour weeks up until four months ago."

Grande exhaled and picked up his whiskey, draining half the glass. "We'd been in Boston to visit our son when Maria had a seizure and hit her head when she fell. He's a doctor, so he took her to the hospital where he was doing his residency and they ran some tests. They told us she had an inoperable brain tumor and gave her nine months to live. She was stoic and accepted it like she'd always known it was coming. I fell apart, and for the first time since I'd met her, I was able to put her first. I took a leave of absence and we had three terrific months together. It was the way our entire thirty-two years of marriage should have been. Then one day, about five weeks ago, she reached the point that she could no longer stand up. Her brain couldn't coordinate her equilibrium and muscles to keep her standing upright, but she was still able to sit up and move in bed pretty well. The morning she died, she asked me to make love to her. She wanted to make sure that she took any opportunity she felt well enough for it, since she didn't know how many more she would have left. So I did, and then I had to take our son to the airport to go back to Boston. He'd come in to visit for a few days. She told me she would be fine while I took him. She said she didn't need anyone to stay with her. After I left, she wrote out notes to me and each of our kids, and then she took an entire bottle of pain pills. By the time I found her, she was gone."

I could see tears welling up in Grande's eyes he swallowed the last of his whiskey and ordered another, but I shook my head at the server, indicating that he was to be cut off. She nodded her understanding and walked away.

"In her note, she told me that she loved me, and that she didn't want me to be burdened with taking care of her as she continued to decline. She told me that she'd known after our second date that she would only ever be able to be my third priority in life, but that she'd decided third place was better than to have never been in the running at all. I shouldn't have married her —," his voice broke and he put his head in his hands. "I should have let her go to someone who could have put her first, because that's what she deserved."

I threw money on the table to cover the tab before standing up and walking around the table. "I think it's time for you to go back your room, Senator. We have a long day of travel tomorrow."

It had taken a little coaxing and the promise of the minibar in his room, but I eventually got him back to his room and shut in for the night. After telling Bobby to check on Grande throughout the night to make sure he didn't fall, hit his head, and die in the Bahamas, I headed back to my room. Listening to Grande had put my situation with Stephanie into perspective because I could potentially see myself in him in thirty years. I knew what I had to do now, even though it would be one of the hardest things I'd ever faced.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: Back to Stephanie's POV for a minute…**_

When I'd started in bond enforcement, I'd thought I was at the rock bottom of my life. I'd been divorced after only eight months of marriage, six months' unemployed, carless, about two weeks away from being homeless, and had resorted to blackmailing my cousin about his sexual perversions to get a job chasing down criminals, but I'd still been able to go about life with a mostly positive attitude in spite of all of that. After all, it hadn't been my fault that I'd lost my job.

It turns out that I had no clue what rock bottom looked like because I had been associating it with the loss of my money and material items. I now knew what my rock bottom really looked like. It was dark, hopeless, and heartbroken. And it had been my fault. Maybe that's what makes the difference. Maybe rock bottom isn't the result of the crappy circumstances that life puts us in, but is actually the results of the crappy decisions we make.

After giving my statement at the police station on Friday morning, I locked myself in my apartment and didn't leave. I didn't bother with trivial things like showering or changing pajamas. Instead, I planted myself on my couch with my laptop, a bottle of wine, and an assortment of comfort foods, and I stayed there unless nature called or I ran out of food or wine. I ended up binge-watching the first two seasons of _House, M.D._ for the rest of the weekend while I rehearsed what I would say to Ranger when I talked to him next. If he even wanted to talk to me again.

I decided to shower and changes pajamas Sunday afternoon in case Ranger did come by sometime in the next twenty-four hours. I moved my base of operations to my bed for a change of scenery and picked up where I'd left off with Dr. House. I fell asleep sometime in the middle of an episode because the next thing I realized, my computer was being picked up off my lap and someone was sitting down beside me. I opened my eyes to see Ranger.

"What time is it?"

"A little after midnight."

I sat up in bed and took a deep breath, prepared to give the speech I'd practiced a hundred times.

"I don't know what to say except that I'm sorry," I began, hating myself for the fact that the tears were already welling up and my voice was starting break after the first sentence. I'd been able to manage three sentences in practice before crying. "I read the reports after you left, and I learned that I threw away everything over nothing —I already knew all of that stuff. I understand that you can't trust me anymore, and if you can't trust me, you sure as hell can't be with me—," I was trying not to completely fall apart, but I knew it was close. Seeing him in the flesh and remembering everything that had happened was more overwhelming than I'd anticipated. I reached over to the bedside table, picked up the watch he had given me for my birthday and held it out for him. "I left my fob and ID at your apartment, but I forgot to leave the watch."

He took the watch and laid it back down on the table before wiping away the tears that were on my cheeks. He looked pained, and I just wanted him to say the words and get out so that I could cry and figure out what I was going to do in a life without him.

"When I left on Thursday, I was angry," he began, taking one of my hands into his. For some reason, it made me think of a doctor telling a patient she was dying. Clearly I'd watched too much _House._ "I didn't know how to deal with it. I've never loved someone as much as I love you, so I've never hurt like this."

I emitted a small sob, hating myself for how much pain I'd caused him. I'd been able to see it on his face on Thursday, and I could still see it now.

"I ended up spending this weekend protecting a man who could be me in thirty years. He'd been Special Forces during Vietnam and came back home with some pretty heavy shit inside him. His way of keeping himself sane was to throw himself into work, so he went to law school and spent twenty years working eighty-hour weeks as a lawyer in D.C. He met a woman that he was crazy about when he was first starting out, but he didn't think he could handle a relationship because of what he was going through. She fought for him, and they eventually got married and had a family. But he didn't want her to know about his demons, and he didn't want to go to counseling and ruin his chances of getting elected to a political office, so he buried himself in his work, convinced that she was happier with the big house and the private schools and the Caribbean vacations than she would have been had he been home more."

Why didn't he just say the words "I'm done" and leave? When had Ranger become so verbose? Was he torturing me with a long break-up as payback?

"When she got sick a few months ago, he realized that he'd wasted his entire marriage trying to keep her from his problems," Ranger continued. "She committed suicide last month when her health declined because she didn't want him to have to take care of her. She told him in her suicide note that she had known going into their relationship that she would always come in third in his life, but that because she loved him, she had been willing to accept third over no position at all."

That had to be the saddest thing I had ever heard, but I could also understand it. When you loved a man who carried such a heavy past around with him, you learned to accept certain realities.

"Now, he's just a shell of the arrogant son a bitch that he used to be because he feels guilty for marrying her. He knew from the beginning that he couldn't put her first, but he hadn't wanted to lose her because she brought something good to his life. He'd been selfish and moved forward with marrying her even though he knew she deserved better," Ranger said, looking down at my hand in his.

He seemed to need a few seconds to pull himself together before saying what he needed to say next. I was barely choking back my sobs at this point. Why was he dragging his out? It was clearly hurting him too.

"I don't want to be that guy," he said quietly. "I don't want to look back thirty years from now and realize that you had only ever been third in my life. You deserve a man who can put you first."

He finally looked back up at me, and through my tears I could see a change in his features. He looked determined, though slightly nervous.

"That's why I am promising you now that I will always put you first."

Wait, what? Was I hallucinating, or was this suddenly not sounding like a break-up speech?

"It'll take me a while to change my behavior. I'll need to you to tell me when I'm slipping, when I'm withdrawing or working too much. Tank told me on the ride to the airport Thursday that I have four sides. One I show to family, one I show to friends, one I show to employees, and one that I don't show to anyone. You know me better than anyone because you've seen the three sides that I actually show to people, but you need to see the fourth side too. It isn't enough for you to know me better than everyone else —I need you to know me better than I know myself."

I let out a shaky gasp, not quite believing what I was hearing.

"I can't believe this," I said, trying to pull myself together. "I thought you'd want to break up with me. I didn't think you'd ever be able to trust me again."

Ranger scooted closer to me and ran a hand through my hair.

"I thought the same thing at first, but then I realized that I am partially responsible for this. You were right when you said that I wasn't trusting you before. But it wasn't because you'd given me any reason not to. It was because I didn't trust myself to open up. I work a lot because that's how I cope, and I was afraid if I didn't work as much that I wouldn't be able to deal with the things that haunt me. But I can't keep doing that if I'm going to have a future with you. In order to put you first, I have to stop relying on work to distract me, and you need to know the truth about my past. You can ask me anything and I will tell you the truth—no omissions or manipulating the facts."

Oh. My. God. This was it: Ranger was really, truly offering to give me what I had always wanted out of him. Unable to stand it any longer, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. We held each other close for several minutes, neither of us needing to say more in that moment. Ranger began kissing my neck and worked his way up to my mouth. The kiss was tender, and he cradled my head in his hands. As we broke apart, he wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks.

"So I can ask anything?"

"Anything."

The whole world of Ranger was placed in front of me and all I had to do was ask a question. Any question. But what should I ask first?

"What's your favorite color?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 _ **Ranger's POV**_

I couldn't stop myself from laughing as Stephanie asked her first question. I could tell as I'd been talking that she had been expecting me to end our relationship. The shock on her face when I told her I was going to put her first was unmistakable. This felt like a fresh start for our relationship, taking it back to what it should have been from day one. I kissed her again, thankful to see the small smile on her face. I shrugged out of my suit jacket and kicked off my shoes so that I could climb into the bed next to her. She curled up against me as we leaned against the headboard.

"Do I really have to answer that one?" I asked.

"I think I already know the answer," she said. "What's your favorite food?"

"My Grandma Rosa's flan."

"Your favorite food is a dessert?" she asked, looking almost as stunned as when she'd realized I wasn't breaking up with her. "But you _never_ eat dessert."

"You've never had my grandmother's flan. My grandfather used to say angels would weep eating her flan."

"Are you sure he was really talking about flan?" she asked with a teasing smile. "Remember that time at the _Blue Bird_ when you told me you didn't eat the kind of pie they served there? You weren't talking about actual pie."

I closed my eyes and held my breath for a beat, hoping to God that my grandfather had actually been talking about the flan. It was really good flan. It had to be the flan, though I do seem to remember her getting embarrassed when he would say that. No, I couldn't consider what Stephanie was suggesting. The look on my face must have been horrified because it made Stephanie laugh.

"Thanks, babe. I'll never be able think of my grandmother's flan the same way ever again," I said, placing a kiss on her head. We were quiet for a few minutes and I'd thought she had gone back to sleep, but then she spoke.

"What interested you in private security?

I considered my answer for a moment. I had several reasons, and I'd never given the same answer to anyone, which fit with Tank's suggestion that I had different versions of myself for different people.

"I knew I wanted to own my business, but I didn't know what exactly," I said. "I had gone with Diana to her father's house in the Hamptons for spring break sophomore year, and the alarm had malfunctioned when we tried to disarm it. Someone from the security company showed up to check it out. While he was there, I started asking the man questions about his job: what he did exactly, how he got started, and if he liked it. After we got back to school, I started doing more research on what you had to do to get into private security and found that you needed a law enforcement or military background. I also learned it was a fast-growing and profitable field. I looked into the Army and knew I wanted to try for Special Forces, but I'd thought I would wait until after I graduated. I actually started my junior year, but the 9/11 attacks happened two weeks into the semester and my cousin Paul was killed. I withdrew from school and signed up at the local recruiting office the next week."

"I hadn't realized you'd been planning to join the Army before your cousin died," Stephanie said quietly. "So Rangeman had been in the works, even if just in theory, for a long time. Now, tell me more about this Diana. Is she the last girlfriend you had before me?"

I nodded, trying not to let it show that Diana was one of my least favorite topics of conversation. "We met at Rutgers. She was two years older than me, an only child from a wealthy family, and had ambitions of becoming a lawyer in Washington. When I joined the Army, she told me that she was supposed be with a C.E.O., not a soldier, and that I had to choose between her and the military. She graduated from Harvard Law School while I was in Iraq and opened her own firm in Washington, D.C. a couple of years ago. She got married three years ago to the man who is now the Vice-President's Chief of Staff."

"The joke's on her—you became a C.E.O., and a woman who barely managed to graduate from a state school got you instead."

I couldn't begin to find the words to tell her how thankful I was for that fact.

After that, her questions were random, ranging from light-hearted ones like my favorite sexual positions and names of childhood pets, to important areas of conversation, like politics and religion. We found ourselves on different parts of the political spectrum and with differing opinions on God, but since neither of us were too passionate in either of those areas, there wasn't going to be a problem in our relationship. Despite what Stephanie believed, I didn't know everything about her and had been surprised to learn the more private details of her life, including the fact that she had briefly struggled with bulimia in high school, but had managed to tell her mother about it and got help before the situation became dire. Sometime around four in the morning, the questions turned to the very serious.

"What haunts you the most?" she asked me as we lay in bed facing each other.

"The people I've killed," I said automatically. "Everyone I've ever killed weighs or has weighed on my conscience, though some carried more weight than others. I've managed to make peace with some of them, but there are a couple that I'll never be able to forgive myself for."

I could tell she was torn between asking me for specifics and not wanting to push me too far, so I saved her the debate and elaborated, but I couldn't look her in the eye as I told her. I rolled onto my back and focused on the ceiling as I spoke.

"In situations where I have killed in defense of myself or someone else, I've managed to make my peace. The one I struggled with the most was Abruzzi because it was an offensive move, but I did work through it and forgive myself because I know without a doubt that he wouldn't have stopped until he had killed you. There were a couple of situations during my time in the Army where men were killed because of my action or inaction. One of them will stay with me because the man had just had a new baby and was supposed to go home the next day to meet his son when he took a bullet that had been meant for me. The other was an assignment I was on in my last year in the Army. We'd been targeting a cartel leader in Mexico who had been responsible for over a billion dollars in drugs and illegal weapons making their way into the States. We ended up accidentally killing his pregnant wife and only got the chance to kill him when he came outside to see the explosion that had killed her. His death didn't bother me as much because he was a ruthless man, but knowing that I killed a pregnant woman has tormented me over the years. It was a big part of the reason Kinsey and I decided not to re-up after our tours."

After a minute, Stephanie put a hand on my face and turned me towards her.

"I'm sorry you were put in those positions," she said, and her voice began to break. "I know I have some blame in the pain you've gone through because I couldn't keep myself out of trouble and you came in and saved me. But you're a good man, Ranger. You have a good heart, and if you didn't, these things wouldn't hurt you the way they do."

I ran a thumb over her bottom lip before moving in to kiss her. She always managed to amaze me with the depth of her resiliency and love. I covered her body with mine, stripped us both out of our clothes, and spent the next thirty minutes making love to her. We both fell asleep afterwards and woke up at seven when the alarm went off on my phone. Stephanie groaned and pulled the covers over her head. I gave her a playful smack on the ass before heading into her shower. When I emerged from the bedroom fifteen minutes later, I found her standing in the kitchen drinking coffee in her pajamas.

"You planning to wear that into the office today?" I asked, nodding at her red Douglass t-shirt and gray sweat pants.

"This is the uniform of my people—the unemployed."

Oh, yeah. I fired her on Thursday.

"You're not unemployed," I said, wrapping my arms around her waist. "You took a sick day on Friday."

Stephanie cocked her head at me in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," I replied. "But if you ever screw up again, I'll throw you through a window."

She looked at me for a beat. "Are you sure?"

"Babe, it's a hypothetical window."

She smacked me on the chest. "I mean about me keeping my job. I really screwed up."

"You did, but I have some blame in it. And I know you wouldn't do anything like that again, so I'm giving you a second chance. I trust you, Stephanie. Completely."

She finished her coffee and gave me a quick kiss. "Thank you. But couldn't you have told me this earlier? Now I'm going to have to hurry to get there on time. Don't want to piss off my boss by being late the day he gives me my job back."

"Just be in by nine and I won't fire you again," I told her. She gave me a mock salute.

"Yes, sir."

I pinned her against her counter and kissed her. "That was hot. Say it again."

She slowly scanned my body and gave me a seductive smile once she made eye contact. "Yes, sir."

The things that woman could do to me. It took all the self-control I could muster to not rip her clothes off and take her right there in the kitchen. I gave her the ID and key fob she had left in my apartment, told her the iPad was on her desk at the office, and left before I changed my mind about ripping her clothes off.

As I drove back to Rangeman, I looked in the rearview mirror and realized I was smiling. Being able to open up to Stephanie about some of the dark parts of my past had been cathartic. She didn't know everything, but she knew some things and expected that eventually she would learn most of it. All of it, if I decided to break confidentiality.

"I called Dr. Phil for a job, but they said I needed a college degree," Tank told me when he walked into my office half an hour later. "So you're stuck with me."

"I knew they wouldn't want you. You have issues with authority."

Tank snorted. "Did you and Stephanie get things worked out?"

I looked up at him, aware that I was on camera in the monitoring room. Just because I was willing to change my ways with Stephanie didn't mean I was doing it for everyone else. We stared at each other for a minute, neither of us wanting to be the first to crack.

"I'm going to assume you did, since you were at her place all night and she just pulled into the parking garage," Tank said as he backed out of my office. "And I'll accept that _thank you_ that you owe me in any form—words, money, strippers. You get the picture, though I prefer the strippers or the money."

"How about I return the favor and help you figure out why things didn't work out with Lula?"

He responded with a stiff middle finger and left the office.

I brought up the security feeds on my computer and watched as Stephanie entered her office. I could see the happiness in her face as she sat down at her desk. I wanted her to look like that every day. I never wanted to be the reason behind her tears or pain again. I had meant it when I said I was going to put her first. I knew I was going to have to work my ass off to do it, but it was going to be worth it.


	20. Chapter 20

When someone knocked on my door at seven-thirty on Valentine's Day morning, I assumed it was a florist delivering flowers from Ranger. What I found instead was Dillion Ruddick.

"Hey," he said, handing me a paper. "Sorry about this."

"What is it?"

"The landlords aren't renewing anyone's leases," he replied. "They are going to demolish the building and put up some condominiums. The entire building is going to be empty by the end of May. The third floor only has one tenant left, and he'll be out in a couple of weeks."

My jaw dropped as I scanned the paper he'd handed me. It was a Notice to Quit that said my apartment would no longer be available after the end of my lease and that I needed to be moved out by 11:59 PM on May 31st.

"I can't believe they didn't give us more notice."

"Yeah, it sucks. But they told me I couldn't tell anyone until I was there to hand them their notice. I figured you would have heard by now."

I hadn't seen many of my neighbors in the months since I'd started dating Ranger. I typically spent two or three nights a week at his apartment and often stayed to have dinner with him on the nights when I didn't. Given that many of the tenants in the apartment were over the age of seventy-five, it hadn't been too shocking that we'd had three deaths in the past three months, but I hadn't paid much attention to the fact that their apartments hadn't been rented out to anyone else until now.

"Happy friggin' Valentine's Day to me," I mumbled as Dillion waved and headed down the hall.

I grabbed my bag and coat and was about to walk out the door when there was a second knock. This time it was a florist deliveryman carrying a long, white box. I accepted it from him and took it to the kitchen. The twelve crimson roses inside were gorgeous, and had I gotten them ten minutes earlier, I would have been a lot more excited about them. But knowing that I was going to have to move out of my apartment soon had put a damper on my mood. Hopefully I'd be able to pull myself out of my funk by that evening because I'd told Ranger I would cook him dinner for Valentine's Day. The surprise was that I was making his two favorite dishes: arroz con pollo, using his Grandma Bella's super-secret, much-beloved recipe and his Grandma Rosa's flan.

I stopped at the Starbucks two blocks away from Rangeman, opting to go inside because the drive-up was packed. No one wanted to actually get out of their car get their coffee. I was willing to brave the cold for shaving fifteen minutes off my wait for a caffeine-and-sugar-laden drink. Once inside, I reached the conclusion that I should have just stayed in bed that morning. Morelli and Shelia were the people at the very end of the line. They were holding hands and talking animatedly about something. I debated walking out, but then Morelli spotted me. Not wanting to look like a loser, I muster up what confidence I could find and went to wait behind them.

"Hey," he said, looking surprised and nervous to see me. "How's it going? I heard you got out of bond enforcement and work for Ranger now."

"It's great," I said, trying to keep my voice was shaking. "Things are going really well in my life. How about you? How's baby Callie?"

Shelia looked uncomfortable, but I didn't blame her for Morelli's unfaithfulness—if it could even be called that when you're only semi-committed to someone. She couldn't have known anything other than what Joe had told her while he was undercover.

"She's great," Morelli replied, and I was surprised to see the light in his eyes when I'd mentioned her name. Apparently fatherhood was suiting Morelli well, as was some sort of relationship with Shelia.

I thanked the Gods of every known religion that my cell phone rang just then, giving me a reason to break the conversation without it being awkward.

"Hey, I heard you're at Starbucks," Frederick said after I answered the phone. "Grab me a venti mocha latte, will you?"

"How do you know where I am?"

"I called up to the control room. And Hal wants you to bring him a grande cinnamon dolce latte with whipped cream. I owe him for telling me where you were."

I rolled my eyes and made a note of the drinks. "Tell Hal Ranger's going to kill him for drinking that crap. It probably has five hundred calories."

"It's just shy of three-fifty. He knew you'd say that. Besides, he said he's been working doubles for the past week because so many people have come down with the flu and he deserves it."

By the time I disconnected with Frederick, Morelli and Shelia had moved up to the counter to order. By the time I finished paying for my order, they had gotten their drinks, waved goodbye and left. Even though my interaction with them had lasted a whole thirty seconds, it hadn't felt good. I'd been glad to see that I didn't have any lingering affection for Morelli, but the memory of everything that had happened over the summer made my stomach churn. But it all felt like it had been a lifetime ago.

After playing coffee girl and distributing the drinks, I got settled in my office and found a message from my nine o'clock appointment. He was cancelling our meeting to sign up for new services after his wife informed him that she wanted to buy a second house in Florida. He wanted to see if they ended up buying a house that could be connected to Rangeman in Miami or if they would go with another company that could manage everything. I had messages from two other clients requesting that I return their calls. Both were calling because they wanted to cancel their services. The first one was a wife who had just kicked her husband out and didn't think she could afford Rangeman on her own. The other was a recovering gambling addict who was trying to get his finances under control and thought his security system was the best thing to cut. I spent most of the morning trying to talk them into cheaper services before finally giving in and terminating their contracts and settling on a date to cease services. The loss of both accounts was close to $20,000 on the year. Not that it was going to hurt the company, but it still felt a professional loss. After those calls, I spent an hour perusing websites for some of the bigger apartment complexes in Trenton. I hadn't been apartment hunting in over six years, so I was shocked to find that prices had skyrocketed, even in neighborhoods that I wouldn't live in for free. I called three places that interested me the most, but the prices were a lot more than I was willing to pay, even with my steady salary. I called two more places and was thankful to find out that their one bedroom rentals were decently priced, but when I'd given them my name to set up a tour, they'd asked if I was the Stephanie Plum whose apartments had been firebombed and cars were regularly destroyed. When I'd admitted that I was, they informed me that they couldn't take the risk and hung up. Frustrated, I began banging my phone against the desk before putting it back in its cradle. I opened Pandora on my browser and tried to cheer myself up with some music, but found it wasn't doing the job. I was sitting at my desk with my head in my hands, willing myself not to cry when someone knocked once, came into my office and shut the door behind them. It was Ranger.

"What's going on, babe? Hal told me you're looking angry."

I gave a humorless laugh that almost turned into a sob. "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm angry. My morning started out with this." I handed him the notice from the landlords. "Then I ran into Morelli and Shelia at Starbucks, which was awkward. Plus, I lost $30,000 in potential sales and had two accounts totaling $20,000 cancel all within an hour of getting here. I've been looking into new apartments and found that rental prices are outrageous. The ones that are within my price range and not in neighborhoods where I'm likely to get murdered won't even give me a tour because I'm 'that Stephanie Plum'."

Ranger quietly watched me for a minute while I tried to pull myself together. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw him pull his key fob out and scramble the camera in my office. He pulled me up to standing in front of him and pulled me into a kiss. It was tender and sweet, and while he held me around the waist he started moving his hips against mine in time to the hip-hop song coming from the computer. I gave a tearful chuckle and wiped the few tears that had ended up on my cheeks as he pulled me closer to his body and continued to place kisses on my cheekbones, lips, between my eyes and on forehead while we moved in time to the music. He eventually spun me around and pressed his front against my back, pushing my hair out of the way so he could kiss my neck and letting his hands roam over my abdomen. It was fun and sexy and a side of Ranger that had been slowly coming out more in the last four weeks since Envelopegate, as I referred to it in my head. I moved with him and let myself forget about the shitty morning and enjoyed the feeling of dancing with Ranger in my office in the middle of the work day. By the time the song ended a couple of minutes later, I was feeling significantly better. I turned around and kissed him again.

"Thank you," I said. "I needed that."

"Don't let this stuff get to you," he replied, tucking my hair behind my ear. "$20,000 isn't going to bankrupt the company. In the beginning, I had to do everything, and I can tell you that I lost a hell of a lot more than $30,000 in potential sales. Morelli's an idiot who didn't deserve you, so now he can be Shelia's problem. And you don't have to worry about finding another apartment because you can just move in with me."

"Right," I said and tried to force a smile on my face. Ranger raised an eyebrow at me.

"This is the second time I've suggested that you move in with me, and you've seemed less than thrilled about the idea on both occasions. Why?"

I played with the neck of his t-shirt while I figured out exactly what I wanted to say.

"It isn't that I don't want to live with you," I began. "You're great to live with, and having Ella cook me dinner every night would be a dream come true, but I don't think I'd ever feel at home in your apartment. Partly because it's in an office building, and I'm always aware that work is just two floors away, but also the apartment's sterile. I feel like I'm visiting a hotel, not someone's home."

"Then we'll find somewhere else to live."

I shook my head. "I can't ask you to do that. Aurelia lives here, and you need to be close to her. I'll just find another place. It's fine. I'm forgetting about it today, anyway. I have a big day ahead of me, which is why I'm leaving here at four to start getting ready. You can come over at six."

He looked like he wanted to argue with me further, but stopped himself. "Why do you need two hours to get ready? When you said you would cook me dinner for Valentine's Day, I figured that meant Chinese take-out."

"Funny, but I'm actually cooking a meal. And there's dessert."

I saw Ranger's lips twitch. "Babe, I already know what I'm eating for dessert."

"Pervert."

I'd practiced the recipes for arroz con pollo and flan twice in the past two weeks and had tested them on Aurelia, though I'd been forbidden by both grandmothers to reveal that I had their recipes. Aurelia had said they were great, so I was feeling pretty good about my ability to repeat myself on Valentine's Day. By a quarter to six, the apartment smelled amazing and I was nervously watching the food so that I didn't burn it. The flan I'd made the night before was sitting in the refrigerator, ready to be eaten after dinner. I had set out my best dishes, which meant they weren't chipped and matched each other, and a bottle of wine was breathing on the table. I heard Ranger come into the apartment and waited for him to come to the kitchen.

"It smells great in here, babe," he said as he laid his keys and gun down on the kitchen counter. "It reminds me of Grandma Bella's arroz con pollo."

"That's because it _is_ your Grandma Bella's arroz con pollo," I said, lifting the lid on the pot for him to see the contents. "I remembered her mentioning that it was your favorite when we were in Miami, so I called her to ask how to make it."

Ranger looked stunned. "She actually gave you her recipe? My mother doesn't even have that recipe."

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone that I have it, so keep your trap shut. I don't want her coming up here and beat me to death."

"I like you too much to let that happen," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Especially now that you have the arroz con pollo recipe."

"Be prepared to like me even more," I replied. "Your Grandma Rosa's flan is for dessert."

"Did she make the flan?"

"Nope, she gave me the recipe, but also threatened my life if I tell anyone I have it. And your dad's life, since he had to translate everything for me."

Ranger didn't say anything for a couple of minutes while I took the food off the heat and left it to sit for a few minutes before being served. When I turned around to face him again, he was standing with hands on hips starting at me.

"What?"

"I'm just amazed that you did all of this."

I shrugged. "Things have been kind of rough for us this winter, so I decided to use today to do something special for you."

Ranger gave me a small smile and pulled me into a hug. "And I plan to spend all evening thanking you for it."

Dinner and dessert ended up being delicious, and we'd barely made it through the flan before Ranger began stripping me out of my clothes, leaving a trail as he guided me towards the bedroom. He took me by surprise when he pulled me into a position we hadn't tried before. Typically, Ranger wanted face-to-face contact during sex, but tonight he was behind me, pulling me up on my knees to sit in his lap as we moved. It felt even more amazing than usual and the orgasm I had a few minutes later was so intense that I nearly passed out. I could tell Ranger was also experiencing it more intensely by the way he moaned loudly. We collapsed onto the bed together, my body still spooned against his.

"What—how—am I dead?" I asked breathlessly. "I must be. How does that happen?"

"That was the best sex we've ever had," Ranger responded, and he was also breathing heavily.

I rolled over and snuggled into his chest. "I've always expected the Doomsday Orgasm with you. I just never understood what that really meant. Now I can respect its power."

The sound of coughing woke me up in the middle of the night. I sat and found Ranger sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. I moved over to sit next to him and when I touched his back, I could feel it was really hot. "I think you have a fever."

"My head and throat are hurting," he said hoarsely. "And I can tell I have a fever, but I feel cold."

"Uh oh. It sounds like you have the flu."

Ranger exhaled in frustration, which turned into a cough. "I don't get the flu."

"If you say so. Would you like some Advil?"

He gave me a strange look, but nodded and laid back down. When I returned to the room a couple of minutes later, I found he'd put on his t-shirt and underwear and was buried under the covers. He spent the rest of the night coughing and shivering, which meant I didn't get much sleep for the rest of the night. When the alarm went off at six-thirty, Ranger sat up on the side of the bed, but didn't get up.

"You should stay in bed today."

He turned around and looked at me like I had grown an extra head. "I've never taken a sick day since I started my company. The only time I've been off has been when I've been injured."

"You aren't going to get over the flu faster by pushing yourself too hard, plus you're only going to expose more people to the germs. I'll call Ella and suggest that the cleaning crew do another decontamination and ask her to do the same to your apartment. I can stop at your apartment and get anything you need and you can stay here until you're over the worst of it," I said.

I waited while Ranger had an internal debate. I could tell he felt like crap, but admitting it was a completely different story.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Just bring my iPad and some clothes when you come home. And pick up an over-the-counter flu medication."

I tucked him into bed and got ready to leave for work. There was a drug store down the road, so I stopped to pick up flu medication for Ranger and took it back to him before heading into work. Considering he'd spent quite a while the night before with his tongue—and other things—inside me, I was just waiting for my own flu symptoms to appear.

After relaying the news to Ella about the flu, she immediately called the cleaning company to come in and do sanitizing work. I hurried up to the apartment and packed Ranger's bag so that I could go straight home at the end of the work day. As I headed back down to the first floor, the elevator stopped on four and opened up to Aurelia and her boyfriend, Todd. They'd met during swimming practice and had started dating back in December. He was a sweet man who was about five years younger than Aurelia and also had Down Syndrome. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He always opened doors for her and called me Mrs. Plum. Today, he was wearing black dress pants and a white dress shirt, both which looked like they'd been worn the night before. His face flushed crimson as they both stepped on to the elevator.

"Hi, Todd," I said.

"Hi Mrs. Plum," he said, looking down at his feet. Aurelia caught my eye and bit her bottom lip.

No one said anything as we made our way down to the first floor. I loitered in the lobby as Aurelia said goodbye to Todd and gave him a quick kiss before he walked outside to a waiting taxi. Once Todd pulled away from the curb, Aurelia headed towards me.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Sure, let's go to my office."

Once we were inside, she took a seat across from me and looked down at her hands.

"We did _it_ last night," she whispered. "And I didn't like it."

"Was it your first time?"

She nodded. "It was his too. But it hurt and it was over really fast. I didn't moan like they do in movies."

I fought a smile at Aurelia's sweet innocence. "Well, the first time isn't usually very good. It hurts for women, plus you're both nervous and you're still learning what your body likes. It'll get better as you do it more and try different things."

She finally met my eye. "It will?"

I nodded. "It will. But did you use a condom? Do you know about that stuff?"

She shook her head. "We didn't use anything. But I can't have babies, so do I have to use one?"

Oh holy crap. "What do you mean you can't have babies?"

She shrugged. "My mom just said I can't have babies. I don't know why."

After Aurelia left my office, I immediately called Ranger's cell phone. "Aurelia told me she can't have children. Do you know if there is a biological reason for that or does she just think she can't because your family doesn't want her to have children?"

"She has some sort of ovarian dysfunction, so she can't get pregnant. Why?"

I blew out of a sigh of relief. "Well, she and Todd slept together for the first time last night and when I asked if they used a condom, she said no. I was worried that she might need emergency contraception."

"A majority of people with Down Syndrome are infertile," he replied. "Men are almost always so, and I think with women it's about half. So even if she could get pregnant, I don't think we'd have much reason to worry with Todd. The only thing she needs to worry about is our mother finding out that she's having sex."

Satisfied that Aurelia wouldn't become a mother in the next nine months, I got started on my work day. Knowing Ranger was at my apartment sick kept me distracted, partly because I hated that he wasn't feeling well and also because it was so amazing to see him taken out by a virus. Not that I wished it on him, but it did make him seem a little more human.

I skipped my lunch and left the office at four so that I could get back home. I found him lying on the couch with a pillow and the quilt from my bed watching a documentary on the History Channel.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of the couch.

"Like I've just gotten my ass kicked," he replied sleepily.

"Is there anything I can do for you? Food? Another blanket?"

He scooted back on the couch and patted the open space. I laid down beside him and he wrapped his arms around me. "That's what I need."

We laid there in silence as he continued to watch the documentary, which was about James Polk. I'd forgotten we had even had a president by that name.

"Why are you watching this?" I eventually asked Ranger. "Sick days are for watching crap, like _Dog the Bounty Hunter._ "

"No amount of torture on the planet could persuade me to watch that show. Besides, I like presidential history. I've read biographies on every president."

I groaned and clapped a hand over my eyes. "Oh my God, you're a history nerd!"

"Wanting to learn about the men who have led our country—one of whom was my Commander-in-Chief—makes me a nerd?"

"Uh, yeah. Especially when you're watching documentaries about them when you're sick."

"Doing algebra while sick would make me a nerd. This makes me an informed citizen," he replied.

"If you say so."

He kissed me on the head and wrapped his arms tighter around me. "How did you find out about Aurelia and Todd?"

"I caught him doing the walk of shame after I'd gone up to your apartment, and then after he left she asked to speak to me. Apparently things weren't very good the first time and she didn't understand why it didn't make her moan like they do in movies."

Ranger chuckled. "I'd feel bad for Todd if it weren't my sister he was nailing."

"It was their first time. A lot of people's first times aren't good. You're nervous, and if you're a girl, it usually hurts a little."

"Was your first time bad?"

"No, mine was pretty good considering it was on the floor of a bakery. But it was with Morelli, and he'd already spent a few years practicing his art before he'd gotten to me."

"Considering your first love is cake, I'd say losing your virginity in a bakery was perfect."

"Yeah, but it would have been more perfect had it been you who had talked his way into my pants that night," I said and wiggled against him. "You would have ruined me for all other men from the beginning."

"I didn't acquire this particular skill set until college, so you were better off with Morelli. God, I hate to admit that."

I turned over quickly and nearly fell off the couch. "You were a virgin until college?"

Ranger started laughing, which made him cough, and I had to wait on his answer until he could get the cough under control. "No, I wasn't a virgin until college. I just didn't get very good at reading a woman's body and making her happy until then."

"What was your first time like?" I asked. "I've never asked what it's like for men."

"I was fifteen and it happened on the floor of the Sunday school classroom at my grandmother's church with Angie Longoria. She said it hurt, and I was only able to hold out for about ten seconds. I ran into her again in Miami about six years ago and showed her what I'd learned in the years since that encounter."

"I'm sure you more than made up for the bad first time."

"I spent the whole weekend doing so."

"A whole weekend making up for one bad sexual encounter?" I asked, feeling a little bit jealous at the thought of Ranger doing things to other women in the past that he did to me now.

"She was pretty hot," he replied with a smirk.

"I can only imagine how many hot women you've taken to bed."

He shrugged. "None of them compare to you, babe."

I rolled my eyes. "That fever really has messed with your head. If you start talking about hating exercise, I'm taking you to the hospital."


	21. Chapter 21

Much to his annoyance, it took Ranger four days to recover enough to be able to return to work. Sick Ranger had been adorably vulnerable, though I'd never tell him that I had secretly enjoyed taking care of him because I knew it would be a rarer occurrence than all the planets being in alignment. I'd been surprised that he had stayed with me the entire time, but it made me think that he might have liked having me take care of him as much as I had. Not that he would ever admit it either. Another downside to Ranger's recovery was that I couldn't suspend the reality of having to move out any longer. There were other apartment buildings around Trenton, and many smaller ones that didn't have websites, so I decided that I would spend the following weekend driving around the city looking for any I could find. I could only pray that they hadn't heard of me. If all else failed, I'd asked Ranger to help me set up a fake identity for the sole purpose of renting an apartment.

"I want you to come out to an account with me," Ranger said as he came into my office the Friday after he returned to work. "I need your input."

"Now?"

"Yes."

Thankful for a break from the monotonous paperwork I'd been doing all day, I followed Ranger to the Cayenne. It took us about twenty minutes with traffic to make it to our destination in Hamilton Township. We were in a neighborhood of large, single-family homes that were upper-middle class without being over-the-top. It was a neighborhood where people lived comfortably while remaining down-to-earth. We pulled into the driveway of a large, multi-level home on a corner lot. The front and back yards had tall, mature trees that provided some privacy without completing blocking the view. The exterior was mostly brick with some stucco accents. It sported a two car garage in the back of the house. There was a small, tiered patio area that was separated from the surrounding area by an eighteen-inch brick wall. Beyond that I saw an enclosed patio at ground level with an open balcony above it, which looked to be accessible through a room on the second floor. The house appeared unoccupied as we followed a paved walkway around to the front of the house. Ranger pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He quieted the chirping alarm as we walked into a large foyer with wood floors. There were staircases leading to the upper and lower levels on one side and an entrance to the dining room and kitchen on the left. Ahead of us was what looked like a large living room.

"What do you need from me?" I asked Ranger.

"Just give me your opinion."

"On the security system?"

"On everything."

I decided to go straight into the living room. It was brightly light with windows that overlooked the backyard. There was a fireplace at one end with an exposed brick wall. The same wood floor extended into the open kitchen with recessed lighting, cream cabinets, granite countertops, marble backsplash and high-end stainless steel appliances. A small dining area was at the opposite end with more exposed brick surrounding a window that overlooked the front yard. I took the staircase down to the lower level of the house, which sported a bedroom, full bathroom and a laundry room along with a carpeted family room. The family room was cozy with more exposed brick, another fireplace, and built-ins. There was also a small bar area for entertaining. The enclosed patio I'd seen from the driveway was accessible from there. Ranger had been quietly following behind me as I explored the house, not commenting or looking around, but seeming to watch me and my reactions. He had already been here. We headed up two levels to the second floor, where we found two decently-sized bedrooms, a full bathroom, and a master bedroom with a nice four-piece bathroom, walk-in closet and access to the second-floor balcony.

"This is a nice house," I told Ranger. "What kind of security does it have?"

"It's had the standard system while the owner was remodeling. He's planning to put it on the market soon and was asking about whether he should have some video monitoring during the selling process," he replied. "Do you like this house?"

"Yeah, it's great," I said. "They did a great job of making it classy, but comfortable. In terms of security, I think exterior cameras would be good to see the coming and goings, but people might be turned off if they saw cameras inside the house while they were looking around. There are a lot of access points to the house, both in terms of doors and exposure since it's on a corner lot, but that exposure could serve as an advantage. Would-be burglars might not be comfortable breaking into a home with streets running along two sides of it. The trees give some privacy while giving the homeowner reassurance that there isn't a pervert hiding in the bushes."

"I agree," Ranger replied. "I like it too. It feels like a home. Especially being here with you."

I had been about to explore the closet again when I stopped and turned to face Ranger.

"Would you like to live here?" he asked. My jaw dropped in shock.

"Are you serious? You mean, us live here together?"

He nodded. "You said you wouldn't feel comfortable in my apartment, so I wanted to find somewhere we could both feel at home. Plus, I need to be better prepared for the future. Lia might reach a point where she is unable to live alone and instead of shipping her back to Newark, she could move in with us and stay in the bedroom downstairs. It would still allow for some privacy and independence, but would keep us in the same house. And if we ever decide to have children, we'll need more space."

I felt my throat start to constrict, though I wasn't sure if it was from terror or joy. "You think about having children with me?"

Ranger shrugged. "If we want them. I think we'd make cute kids. They'd be sneaky little shits who are too smart for their own good, but still cute."

I laughed, remembering my own troublemaker days, and I could only imagine all the things Ranger had done as a kid. Undoubtedly, we would pass those things onto our own offspring. Offspring I'd never imagined myself considering, let alone Ranger. I immediately began imagining a life where Ranger and I lived in this house together. Surprisingly enough, I could see it. The house felt modern and masculine enough for Ranger while comfortable and casual enough for me.

"You're really going to buy this house?"

"Only if you'll live here with me."

I couldn't help but smile. "I'd love to live here with you," I said as I walked over to wrap my arms around him.

"We're going to need a lot more furniture," I told Ranger as we headed back to Rangeman. "I just have the stuff from my bedroom and living room, which isn't much. And you know my kitchen situation is laughable."

"You can either do the decorating and shopping on your own or we can hire Silvia to do it for us," he replied.

"I'll give it a try on my own," I said, not particularly excited about the idea of hiring Ranger's sister as an interior designer. If I didn't like what she was doing, things could get awkward very quickly. "If it's too much or you don't like my ideas, then we could hire her to help."

I had taken pictures of every room on my phone so that we could start picking out furniture and paint colors while the lawyers hammered out the details. I found a decorating app that allowed me to paint the walls and add furnishings to the room to see what I liked and what I didn't. The paperwork I'd intended to finish when I got back to the office was going to have to wait until Monday.

I spent the next few weeks showing pictures of the house around like a proud new parent while Ranger and the seller awaited the finalized paperwork. In spite of the decorating app, I'd found the whole decorating a house deal to be more overwhelming that I'd anticipated, so I caved and asked Ranger if we could hire Silvia. I'd dreaded meeting with her to discuss design details, not to mention having her see my apartment, but she came in and blew me away. She knew what Ranger's tastes were, but she needed to get an idea of what I liked. She had me take a design quiz, selecting from a group of several photos which ones I liked. I was presented with twenty different frames where I selected the thing I liked the most until it produced a result.

"This will work with Carlos," Silvia said as we sat at the dining room table in my apartment. "Your taste is transitional with a hint of rustic, which can will work well with the house and Carlos's style. He may think he's more modern, but he isn't."

Four weeks after showing me the house, Ranger called down to my office on a Thursday afternoon to say that we needed to meet with the lawyers that evening to sign the closing papers and get the keys to the house. I hadn't understood why my presence was necessary until Ranger started sliding papers over to me after he had signed them. I was taken aback to see that he had put the house in both of our names.

"You didn't tell me you were putting my name on the house," I whispered.

"So?"

" _So?_ You're the one paying for the house and the decorating. I haven't contributed a dime. Why did you put my name on the title?"

"We'll talk about this later, just sign the papers," he said. I looked up to see the seller and lawyers watching us with interest. I plastered a smile on my face and signed the papers that were sent my way.

After signing several documents and waiting while copies were made for each party, the seller left with an enormous check and we left with the keys to our new home.

"Why did you put my name on the title?" I asked Ranger once we were in the Turbo.

"Because it's _our_ house," he said simply, as though that should explain it all.

"But _you_ paid for it," I replied. "I feel bad. Why didn't you ask me to give you something towards it? Or to pay for the decorating fees?"

"Babe, please," Ranger said, and I could tell he was annoyed with me. "I put the house in both of our names because it is our home. Because if you weren't going to live there with me, it would just be a house. Without you there, it would be as sterile and unwelcoming as the apartment at Rangeman. With you living there and putting your touch in the decorating, it becomes a home. So from my point of view, you've contributed in a way that you can't put a dollar amount on, and that's why your name should be—and is —on the title."

I let Ranger's words sink in as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed north. I hadn't imagined that he valued my input so much on what colors we painted the walls or which sofa we had in the family room. But that was just one of the many surprises about him that I'd come to know as our relationship had grown. The fight we'd had back in January —while painful—had been the best thing that could have happened to our relationship. It had forced us both to open up in ways we'd never imagined.

I'd assumed we were going back to Rangeman after leaving the lawyer, but instead Ranger took us to our new house. I was surprised to find Rangeman technicians working as we pulled into the driveway. I imagined Ranger had sent them to do the work while we'd been signing the closing papers. I could see Carl Patterson testing the new locks on the front door while Manny Paz was checking tinkering with the garage door opener. I could see cameras on the exterior of the house that took in every angle, undoubtedly installed by Hector or Ramon. We got out of the car and stood back while the men wrapped up their work. Carl handed Ranger a bunch of keys and explained which doors they opened. Manny brought over two remotes to open the garage and everyone packed up and left within ten minutes of our arrival.

"You didn't waste any time," I said with a laugh. "We didn't even technically own the house when they started working."

Ranger shrugged as he reached for something in the cargo area of the Turbo. "It didn't end up being a problem." I watched as he pulled a black duffle bag out of the car. "Let's go inside."

I hurried along behind him, wishing I'd worn a heavier coat. March had been fickle in Jersey, fluctuating between winter and spring within the same day. Today had fallen heavier on the winter side. Once inside, Ranger took my hand and led me downstairs to the family room, where a fire was crackling in the fireplace and the recessed lights were on low.

"Cozy," I commented as we walked across the room towards the fireplace. "Are you looking to christen the place this evening?"

Ranger chuckled. "I guess you could call it that."

He set the duffle bag down and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He went to the bar area to open the bottle and poured us each a glass while I kicked off my shoes and settled myself on the floor in front of the fire. He handed me a glass before sitting down next to me and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

"Here's to being homeowners," I said, clinking my glass on his. "And taking the next step in our relationship. Let's hope my bad luck doesn't follow us here the way it followed me to my apartment."

I sipped my champagne and stared into the fire for a minute, suddenly feeling sentimental.

"What's wrong?" Ranger asked, startling me out of my thoughts.

"Nothing's wrong," I replied. "It's going to sound stupid, but I'm going to miss my apartment a little. Even if the bathroom's a disaster and every criminal in Trenton has broken in twice. It was the place I moved into the day after I found Dickie banging Joyce on the dining room table. It was where I lived when I lost my job and when I got into bond enforcement and met you. I have a lot of good—and bad—memories with Morelli. I have funny memories like when Grandma Mazur, Joyce Barnhardt, and Lula all stayed with me at different points. I have amazing memories like the first time you and I slept together. And I have terrible memories, like finding Lula on the fire escape, being held hostage by Scrog and watching you get shot, and all of the people who have died in my apartment. But it has always been my home in spite of the bad stuff. I've heard people say that your home is a physical expression of your inner self. I guess my inner self was a pretty hot mess when I moved in and the mood stuck."

"Until now," he reminded me. "Now you have a new home."

"I do," I said, snuggling up next to him. "It's with you, and it's going to be amazing. It'll be a representation of us."

Ranger watched me for a moment, and I had a feeling that he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite figure it out. He finished his champagne and set the empty glass on the brick step in front of the fireplace.

"Let's make sure that this house gets a memorable start," he said with a small smile. "A good one."

"I knew it," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're hoping to get laid in the new house tonight."

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered that. But that isn't exactly it," he replied. "I don't want us to only live together here. I want more."

He was quick to grab the glass of champagne as it started to slip through my fingers. I couldn't do anything but stare at him in shock as he set my glass next to his. Was this really going where I thought it was going?

"I love you, Stephanie," he continued. "And I want to marry you."

He reached into the duffle bag and pulled out a small, black box. He balanced the box on my knee and waited while I composed myself enough to open it. Inside was a stunning ring. The princess-cut diamond looked to be a little over a carat, with tiny diamonds weaved into one of the two platinum bands that twisted together to form the ring.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked him quietly, still not believing what was happening.

"Absolutely."

He reached over and plucked the ring out of the box before sliding it onto my left ring finger. Naturally, it was a perfect fit.

"Will you marry me, Stephanie?"

After a moment of stunned silence, I practically lunged at Ranger, knocking him over in my excitement. I kissed him deeply, surprised not only at the fact that he was asking me to marry him, but at my own exuberance. I'd known that I wanted to marry him, but I apparently hadn't know how much until he had finally reached the point of asking me.

"Absolutely," I told him as we broke apart.

"That would have been my guess," he said with a smirk. "Since you're on top of me."

I reached down to pull my shirt up over my head and tossed it aside. "Speaking of being on top," I said. "I want to be on top for the first round of _christening._ " I was cut off in my move to take off my bra by a sudden burst of laughter from Ranger. "What's so funny?"

He tried to talk but couldn't, instead pointing towards the fireplace. I glanced over to see that in my enthusiasm, I'd thrown my shirt directly into the fire.

"Damn it!" I shrieked, crawling over to the fire place to inspect the damage. The shirt had been a goner the minute it had hit the flames. Meanwhile, Ranger was laying on the floor where I'd left him, still laughing his ass off. "This isn't funny. That was my favorite shirt."

He sat up and wiped his eyes. "Babe, that was almost poetic. You said the house is a physical representation of the inner self, and you do have a knack for setting things on fire. Just be careful when you take your bra off—it's my favorite."

I took my bra off and threw it at his head before crawling back to him. I was going to have rug burn before the night was over, but Ranger was right. We were having the perfect start to our new life.


	22. Epilogue

_Psychological Evaluation-Addendum_

 _Confidential_

 _Name: Ricardo Carlos Manoso_

 _Birthdate: August 12, 1980_

 _Age: 37 years_

 _Gender: Male_

 _Report Writer: Dr. Phillip Drewe_

 _Date of report: September 10, 2018_

 _Instruments Administered:_

 _Clinical interview_

 _Reason For Referral_

 _Mr. Ricardo Manoso is a 38 year-old, heterosexual, Latino male who has presented for assessment as part of his business requirements._

 _Personal and Family History_

 _Since his assessment in 2017, Mr. Manoso reported several life changes. At the last assessment, Mr. Manoso reported having feelings for a female friend, but that he had not pursued a more meaningful relationship because of his own uncertainties regarding his ability to have a healthy relationship and her involvement with another man. He reported that he and this woman finally began a committed relationship in the summer of 2014 and became engaged in March 2015 after buying a house together. She also began working for his company in 2014. They were married in September of 2015. He reported that they were expecting their first child—a girl—together in December. He reported feeling some anxiety over being a hands-on father, as he had not been such when his older daughter was young. Mr. Manoso reported that in 2014, the youngest of his older sisters—who had Down Syndrome—moved into an apartment in his building after he encouraged his family to allow her to live semi-independently. He reported that his sister did very well living on her own. She worked for his company by helping the property managers with their various jobs. She also began a relationship with a man who also had Down Syndrome. She became engaged to the man during the summer of 2015 and had planned her wedding for New Year's Eve of that year. Mr. Manoso reported that three days before her wedding, his sister died in her sleep from a massive heart attack. Mr. Mansoso reported another significant loss —his grandmother. She died in February 2017 from a stroke. He reported that he had been close to her because he had lived with her during high school and she had understood him better than anyone else in his family. He said that he and his wife planned to name their child after her._

 _Educational and Occupational History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported that his business has continued to be successful and has grown to include offices in Indianapolis and Chicago. He also reported that he was now the sole owner of his entire company. Mr. Manoso reported that he had been reducing his workload since getting married and was further adjusting his work schedule—more importantly the number of hours he spent at the office—in preparation for the birth of his daughter._

 _Health History_

 _Mr. Manoso reports a few minor injuries in the past five years, but that the most significant one occurred when in 2014 when his then-girlfriend (now-wife) had been kidnapped. He had an altercation with the abductor, which led to a knife being driven through his right hand. He reportedly underwent microsurgeries and therapy for the injury. He reported having about 95% of his former usage back, though there was occasional numbness and dull pain._

 _Substance Abuse History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported no changes to his substance usage in 2012, though he had not consumed as much wine or beer in the few months since his wife became pregnant._

 _Legal History_

 _Mr. Manoso reported no arrests since the previous report._

 _Mental Status Examination_

 _Mr. Manoso's physical appearance presented similarly to past assessments. He was aware of time, place and person. No neurological issues noted. No reports to delusions, hallucinations or other mental health disturbances since the previous assessment._

 _Behavior Observations_

 _Mr. Manoso approached the testing session in a more open manner than past assessments. He demonstrated a larger emotional range and was more forthcoming with personal information than during past assessments. He demonstrated slightly less hypervigilance than previously._

 _Summary_

 _Mr. Manoso is a 37 year-old man who is currently married and expecting his second child within the year. Despite two personal losses, Mr. Manoso's emotional state appears to be better than it has been in the past decade._

 _Diagnostic Impressions - DSM-IV_

 _Axis I: 309.81 Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (by history)._

 _Axis II: None_

 _Axis III: Minor issues with functioning of his right hand._

 _Axis IV: None_

 _Axis V: 95_

 _Recommendations_

 _1\. Mr. Manoso may benefit from parenting classes to help him understand necessary basics for child care, particularly with infants. He may also benefit from being more open about his anxiety regarding fatherhood._

 _Respectfully submitted,_

 _Dr. Phillip Drewe_


End file.
